All That is Wrong
by Evil Cat Hater
Summary: Hermione returns to Hogwarts for her final year with a new ring. However, something's haunting Hogwarts that hasn't been there before, something that's seeking her...Who can protect her against this malicious force? RLHG, AU, OCs, and somewhat OOC.
1. Chapter 1: Reunions

Hello all! Once again I am back with more, only this story has many chapters! Yay!

This story is being betaed by the lovely **R J Lupin's Kat**, so you all should praise her on for her excellent work! I would never be able to continue without her and you wouldn't be able to read this without her!

And, before I can let you continue, please take into concideration that it takes time for a beta and an author to achieve the completion of a story. I cannot guarantee that you will get updates that are regular for time is not on our side and neither is life. So please, do not get mad if this story isn't updated ever week like I had originally wanted it to and please do not pressure me or my beta to hurry up with this story, (for it will only fuel my rage and make me persist that this story go even slower). In the end, you're only hurting yourself.

And, on another note, please understand that the content in this story will go slow, meaning that Remus and Hermione will not be paired up automatically in the next chapter and in the chapter after that they get married and so forth. That annoys me, so please do not assume that for most of this story is already written. If you know me, I usually pair my couples at the end. Plus, this story will take long for it takes place _after _the _Half Blood Prince._

So, please, enjoy this story for I have poured my heart and soul into seeing that this story is as enjoyable, yet complicated, as possible. :)

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**Disclaimer -** I do not own Harry Potter and Company. Shamefully, if I did, Tonks would be dead, Snape would not be evil,and so on and so forth. However, I _did _try to make this story something that J. K. Rowling would have written, so prepare for the complicated:)

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The end of August always meant something new to Hermione, mostly the new path that life had opened up for her. It was the beginning of school, the beginning of adulthood (where she and her friends just might be taken seriously), and the real beginning of the war with Voldemort. 

Even though the death tolls were rising and the disappearances reaching the highest they've ever been in the history of the Wizarding world, there was still hope: now everyone believed that Voldemort had indeed returned.

But as she made her way along Diagon Alley, Hermione could still see the fear etched in the people's eyes, the one place their true feelings were revealed. There were more people shopping around than last year as assurances were made by the Ministry that they were winning the war and had everything under control. But while the shoppers all had mock-smiling faces to convince others there was nothing to worry about, Hermione wondered what would happen if a solitary figure were to not follow the trend. Would it destroy the pattern of fake cheerfulness?

She knew it was not best to be the one to start the turn of frowns, so she smiled along with everyone else. She offered occasional greetings and curtseys to the shopkeepers, making their fear disappear briefly from their eyes before it returned with the haunting feeling that had settled over them. Hermione tried to ignore it. It was if they were sending messages of both reassurance and doubt to one another.

She continued to walk down the shop-lined road, glancing at those establishments that had stayed in business and those boarded up, ignored by almost everyone. As she neared Eeylops Owl Emporium to meet her friends, Hermione began to wonder how she had gotten so good with her fake smiles and her lies. But then, as she looked around at everyone to hear talk of positive things, hadn't everybody else, too?

As she neared the shop, she instantly saw the flaming red hair of her boyfriend. The sight brought a broad grin of happiness to her face, making the people around her stare with wide eyes at her sudden burst of radiance.

While she moved swiftly to her friends, she could see the others gathered in the group with the redhead. There was a much smaller redhead with long hair and an average-sized seventeen year old with jet black hair that stuck up in the oddest places.

As she neared them, the youngest Weasley turned to her with a gloss-lipped, pleasant smile, while the black haired boy gave her a broad smile, his emerald eyes shining. Harry.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried out in happiness before engulfing her in a hug, making the brunette laugh. Hermione returned the hug, and before they could let go, Harry pulled her into another hug, his hands comfortingly patting her back. They separated and Harry stepped aside as the second youngest Weasley, Ronald, pulled her into a hug that showed how much he worried about her and how glad he was to know she was all right.

Harry and Ginny watched with smug faces as they parted just enough to share a chaste kiss before looking into each others eyes. Hermione could see the joy in Ron's, but also something else that didn't quite resemble anything positive, making her smile falter a bit before he hugged her again.

"I missed you," he murmured as Ginny stifled her girly giggles with a petite hand and Harry looked away, biting his lower lip.

"As did I you," she replied in a whisper while running her hand up to his freckle-covered neck and into his flaming hair. While the two held on like it was their last time together, Harry took this as his chance to sneak an inch closer to the girl next to him who occupied most of his thoughts.

While Ginny noticed Harry's less than obvious Gryffindor tactics (which most of the boys she dated used), she politely coughed, causing Ron and Hermione to let go and look away from each other, blushing. Ginny gave Hermione an apologetic face before wheeling around, her red hair whipping, before making her way into the shop. Harry, mesmerized by her actions, watched her before snapping out of his thoughts and following her. Ron then shyly took Hermione's hand and led her into the shop. She followed, wondering just what Ron was feeling other than happiness after their kiss.

* * *

The Golden Trio had promised each other that they would continue on with their lives if they were to ever lose one of their group. It had stayed with them and haunted them since they had first made it. Even now it caused chills up Hermione's spine thinking about it, but she had to ignore it as they had entered the newly developed jewelry shop before them. 

Of course, they had made other vows to one another, too. The second most important one was to buy each other birthday presents ahead of time so they would never regret it if one of them had died before they were able to turn another year older. It was easier to get their present shopping done and over with.

They entered the store and were met with three large counters of pearly white cushions holding up fabulous and gorgeous pieces of shining jewels and necklaces. Ginny gasped upon seeing a ruby pendent in the shape of a flower that would match her brilliantly flaming red hair. Harry approached it with hesitation before peering over the glass to admire it with his fancy.

Hermione didn't know what to look at first when an emerald stone set in a silver ring sparkled, captivating her. She raced to it like it was the rarest book in the world. She badly wanted to smear her nose into the glass in the hopes of somehow getting to the ring. Ron, as though he was going to be sucked into the bright glows of the gems, cautiously approached it.

"How may I help such a beautiful young woman like you this afternoon?" a man asked her pleasantly. She looked up to see him standing on the other side of the counter, with Ron glaring at him as if communicating for him to back off.

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione replied honestly as she then looked back at the ring. "I guess we're just looking for now."

"That ring there," the man told her as he pointed a yellowed fingernail through the glass, "is not for sale."

"Oh," she said disappointedly. Ron narrowed his eyes at the man, faulting him for not satisfying his girlfriend with the opportunity to own the jewelry she wanted.

"But over here," the man added after noticing Ron's face. He walked to the front counter with Hermione and Ron quickly following. "This fine ring _is_ for sale. It is said to be the ring of an enchanted prince. It's called the Dragon's Eye."

He then pointed to a ring with a glowing radiance to it. It was a bright yellow stone with a deep, black crack running through it. It seemed to have been sealed by magic. Attached to it was a black band that was half hidden by the pearly cushion.

While Hermione gasped at its elegance and beauty, Ron eyed it suspiciously.

"I do hope you make up your minds," the man said smugly, staring at Ron's blue, narrowed eyes before racing off to Harry and Ginny. As Ron intently watched him retreat to much safer waters, Hermione knelt down and ran her finger against the glass by the stone, intrigued that it hadn't been sold already.

"I don't think I should get it for you, Hermione," Ron told her. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What ever do you mean?" she asked in a perplexed manner before standing up and turning to him.

"The ring," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing it out protectively. "I don't think I could buy it for you. It just doesn't seem… y'know… _Right._"

"I'm afraid I don't understand you," she explained, folding her fingers together and watching him fidget with his own. "If it's too much, we could always look for something else then…"

Just then Ginny and Harry appeared by their sides with joyful faces that disappeared at Hermione's solemn one and Ron's guilty one. Ron watched Harry as he took out his money pouch, filled with more gold than the redhead's. Ginny saw the questionable look appear on her brother's face.

The shopkeeper reappeared across from Hermione and Ron, his smug expression intact before he pointed at the yellow ring again.

"It has a history filled with romance," he informed them while he placed the red flower pendant Ginny had previously admired onto the glass. Ron looked at it skeptically. Hermione peered at the man curiously while he continued. "It is said that whoever possesses the ring will bring great passion to their…" he paused, coughed, then finished, "_partner_."

At this, Ron blushed and looked at his tattered shoes while Hermione's face lit up. This ring could probably help spark the real passion in her relationship with Ron, for the most physical contact they ever had was of kissing each other in greeting and parting and the occasional hand holding. Even though they hadn't been in a relationship for long, Hermione knew Ron desired more and that she was going at too slow a pace for him and his hormones. Desire itself might have been the emotion Ron was feeling after they had kissed each other earlier.

"It has also been reduced in price recently," the man added pointed to Ron. Ron looked at him with narrowed eyes; Hermione looked up at Ron with pleading eyes. Never had she wanted something so badly. And it wasn't just beneficial to her; it could also help Ron, too.

"How much is it?" Ron asked, giving the shop keeper a triumphant smile as the man's smile fell. It was replaced with relief, startling the redhead.

"It's ten Galleons," the man replied as he darted his eyes from Hermione to Ron. They looked like they had been shocked with a few surprise hexes. "I could reduce it further if you like…"

"N-no! It's fine!" Ron cried, almost pouncing on the man as he took out his pouch and pulled out ten gold coins, lightening his bag weigh considerably. The man, looking like he had been told Voldemort was irrefutably and forever dead, sighed in relief. He dumped the money into a bin before taking out a few sets of keys and opening the lock. He placed his palm onto the glass, causing it to glow red, and opened the sliding glass door. He retrieved the ring and placed it onto the counter while Hermione squealed and hugged Ron happily.

After placing the ring onto her finger, Hermione felt an odd sensation run through her. First was icy cold fury for the man selling this ring so cheap and to her, of all people! There was no way in hell she would be able to take care of it; after all, she was only seventeen and she had more important things to worry about than _jewelry!_ She'd be as bad as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patel! Then she felt contentment with the idea of having something so precious and so old with a romantic history. This might work out, for if she just looked up a book on how to care for jewelry in Hogsmeade, then she'd be happy with knowing she did everything in her power to take care of it. And she was the right girl for the job when it came to books and memorization.

While Harry paid for his more expensive piece for Ginny, who was now admiring the ring on Hermione's finger, Ron wondered why it was so cheap and why the shopkeeper was so relieved to get rid of it. But before he could question the man, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny turned to leave, the girls giggling at their new gifts. So Ron left his questions unasked and followed them with one glance more at the grinning man.

The shopkeeper sighed as soon as they left his shop. He looked to see in the corner of the room the shadow that had haunted him for years, its bright yellow eyes narrowed at him, making him flinch. It was going to have to leave soon. But the shadow stared at him for a moment in pause before quickly moving around the room and leaving. Outside it turned to follow the companionable group, the latter having no idea what they had just done.

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There! What do you think of it so far? Please tell me for I'd _really_ like to know how you feel and its absolutely fantastic to establish that connection between authors and readers. 

Thanks dearly to Bethany for all of her help! I'm so glad that I have her to discuss fanfiction with:)

And believe me when I tell you that this story is just beginning..._smirks evilly_


	2. Chapter 2: Of Dragons and Demons

**Chapter 2**

**_Of Dragons and Demons_**

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**This chapter is dedicated to the one who is on my mind, even now, (_You hate me, don't you?_), and to the weekends that let me write and draw without guilt.**

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"I'm going to go find mum," Ginny announced, her glossed lips turning up in a sly smile as she pointed ahead. Those random souls caught in her fingered-line of indication quickly moved away from its path. Hermione noticed unpleasantly that their smiles had faltered a bit. The same falter hers had fallen victim to earlier, when she saw that negative look in Ron's eyes after they had kissed. 

"So I'll see you guys, and girl, later, alright?" Ginny finished.

"Sure," Ron replied with his hands shoved into his pockets, while Hermione nodded in acceptance. "Just be careful!" Ron called after her. "I don't want mum to beat me to a bloody pulp once she knows I left _you_, of all people, alone!"

At this, Ginny rolled her green eyes then turned to make her way down the cobblestone road. Harry, seizing this as the perfect opportunity to be alone with and protect his fancy, added reassuringly, "I'll go with her. You know, just in case Voldemort decides to come out of hiding in a public place, outnumbered by lawful wizards and witches, and try and kidnap Ginny. See you later!"

Ron just grinned and waved as Harry ran to catch up to Ginny. Hermione turned shyly to Ron, who was now scratching his head in embarrassment. She waited for him to speak first, since he seemed to be trying to formulate the right words before he opened his mouth again.

"I have to-err-head to Fred and George's joke shop for the rest of the afternoon," he explained. Her smile, once again, faltered a bit. He added uncomfortably, "Look, I'd love to take you along but they won't let me. It's a new product that they thought I'd like to check out first. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, no; it's fine." She reassured him with a polite smile before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and pulling out her pouch of money. "I think I hear the bookstore calling me, so I'll go there first and then try to find your mum, alright?"

"That's my Hermione," he replied, relieved. He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead, causing her to blush, then left for his brothers' shop. While watching Ron's retreating form, Hermione didn't see the shadow move from one side of the street to the other. It continued to follow her as she made her way to the bookstore.

A bell rang off as she stepped into the tome-laden building, alerting the shopkeeper of her presence. While the owner busied himself stamping books with the shop's logo (to prove they had received the shipment) and marking checks on a piece of parchment, Hermione stopped to inhale that new book smell. It made her feel like she was back home, entrenched in the new library her parents had added to their house.

The owner looked up from his tic-marking to see a young woman sniffing the store like she was in a pastry shop. He smiled. But then he noticed a figure in a dark cloak, its whole body covered and its face darkened, standing right behind her. He did a double take before carefully getting his wand. He suddenly felt hot and sweaty from the panic that enveloped him. Why would there be a Death Eater in his store in broad daylight?

Before he could hex it, though, it slowly turned its head, yellow eyes narrowing at him, and put a solitary finger to its lips. Its white fangs bared in its evil grin as it hissed, "_Shh…_" The young woman started, then looked uneasily around. The cloaked figure had retreated to a corner in the rather large shop at an almost inhuman-like pace.

Hermione noticed the shopkeeper's wide eyes and panicked face before he quickly turned back to stamping his books and marking them off on a piece of parchment. She mentally shrugged and made her way merrily to an aisle to investigate its offerings. As she browsed, she heard the front door open again, sounding the small bell. She dismissed it as she ran a finger slowly down a book spine, only to abandon it upon spotting another book that sparked her interest and curiosity.

Taking it off the shelf, Hermione began to read the summary before hearing boot steps drawing towards her. In a heartbeat something, or rather some_one_, began to breathe on her neck, making the hairs stand up and a chill run down her spine.

Swiftly, Hermione took out her wand and spun around, only to find no one there. Then she heard cold laughter that was distant yet familiar to her ears.

"Scared, Mudblood?" a blonde man asked her with a wicked smile. He approached her, fist clenched, while Hermione remained motionless in defense, wand still withdrawn. He stopped short of her and withdrew a book from the shelf. He pretended to be interested in it as the shopkeeper looked up for a second before returning to his work. "And who do I have the pleasure in thanking?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" she snarled in a whisper as she kept her wand steady. Draco Malfoy merely rolled his gray eyes and walked closer to her, the book in one hand, the other still clenched. She added vehemently, "I didn't think you'd even _dare_ show your face in public!"

"Watch your language, Mudblood," he replied coolly before stopping to stare at her. "You're in the presence of Malfoy royalty, so you might as well lower your wand before you find yourself in a bloody load of trouble.

"You hurt my feelings, by the way, so get on your knees, filth, and apologize before licking my boots. I just might accept it."

"There is no way I'd ever bow to scum like you," she spat distastefully.

As she continued to threaten and harass him, Malfoy glanced away from her, his eyes catching movement from the end of the aisle. A figure in a black cloak moved toward them. Bright yellow, gleaming eyes, wide with fury, shone from beneath its hood. Its hands were eerie-looking with long, sharp nails that glimmered against the lights within the shop.

Hermione finally noticed Malfoy wasn't paying attention to her, was instead staring at something behind her, a look of horror growing on his pale face. She, to quell her curiosity, turned around. The aisle was empty.

Malfoy stood frozen in terror as he felt something behind him, breathing on his neck. The figure brought its long claws up to his face; a mysterious, eerie voice hissed in his ear, sending chills down his spine.

"_You harm her, you answer to _these." The thing flexed its fingers, sending its claws closer to the blonde's face. Malfoy's breath caught.

After checking over to make sure she hadn't missed anything, Hermione turned to Malfoy, only to be startled herself. He was shaking; droplets of sweat ran down his pale face. The book in his hand dropped to the floor. He looked ill, like death was upon him. Just then, the shopkeeper – sensing some trouble with horrible timing – came to the aisle.

"What the devil is going on?" he asked sternly. The blonde man jumped at the interruption, turned and ran out of the store, disappearing entirely from sight. The woman (the same as from earlier) wore a look of suspicion and shock at what had just happened. She knelt, retrieved a discarded book from the floor, apologized to him and placed it back on a shelf. Then, blushing, she hurried to a different, secluded aisle of the bookstore.

The shopkeeper watched her retreat then turned back toward the long aisle. At the far end was the same cloaked figure as before. Once again it put its finger to its lips. This time the man saw the long claw attached. He froze. But then he blinked and it disappeared. The man shook his head, muttered about needing to go to bed earlier, then returned to his desk, stamping his books and marking them off on a piece of parchment.

* * *

"Mr. Weasley!" Hermione cried as she ran toward him, his wife, Ginny and Harry as they stood just outside Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. They all turned to her to see her scared face, her hand waving desperately. "Mr. Weasley! It-It's M-M-!" 

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked protectively as she quickly took out her wand. Hermione, having run all the way from the bookstore, doubled over as she tried to catch her breath.

"Mr. Weasley," she panted, directing her attention the patriarch instead of Mrs. Weasley (who looked slightly offended that Hermione didn't confess to her). "I just ran into Draco Malfoy in Flourish and Blotts! He threatened me!"

At this, Ginny gasped and hugged Harry's arm for protection and comfort. Harry would have smiled stupidly at the attention if it weren't for the cause of it. Malfoy's appearance was nothing to smile about. Mrs. Weasley turned to her husband worriedly as his face paled.

Ginny asked, "What is he doing out in public?"

"I think he had an Invisibility Cloak with him," Hermione answered uneasily. Mr. Weasley put his hands onto her shoulders and looked at her in the eyes. "He sort of _disappeared _after he left the store."

"Did you just let him go?" Harry snarled as he gripped Ginny's shoulders in support. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley glanced at each other uncomfortably. "Why didn't you inform an Order member beforehand instead of buying that book?"

Hermione, offended and hurt at Harry's outburst, brought herself up to her full height before scowling at him and explained, "I didn't just '_let him go_'. He just ran away! He had threatened me, and so I threatened him back. Then he started acting like there was a fire-breathing dragon behind me. He went all pale, as though he was in shock. Then the shopkeeper interrupted us, wanting to know what was going on. That's when Malfoy ran out, then _disappeared_."

Hermione's indignant anger edged out over her fear. "Plus, if he did have an Invisibility Cloak, he could have turned right back around and started following me, possibly even doing so right now! I had to play it cool for a while, _Potter!_"

"Okay, okay, that's enough now," Mr. Weasley spoke up, stopping Harry from retorting. Ginny wiggled out of his grip and gave him a look as if to say, '_What's wrong with you?_' She raced to her mother's arms.

Mr. Weasley questioned Hermione. "But, why was he staring behind you and getting scared? Something's not right here."

"It could have been someone else in an Invisibility Cloak or something," Ginny suggested as Harry, his nose now red in anger toward Hermione, huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'll tell Alastor to keep his eye out for anyone using Invisibility Cloaks," Mr. Weasley said. Mrs. Weasley looked at him hesitantly. "Whether it is Draco or not," he amended.

After Ginny left her mother's protective embrace, Mrs. Weasley turned and put a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder. As she did so, the redheaded woman noticed a dark shadow appear in the middle of a group of people a short way's off. They seemed to not pay attention to its presence. Its yellow eyes narrowed menacingly at the plump woman. Quickly, Mrs. Weasley withdrew her hand from Hermione's shoulder. She gave the young woman a motherly smile before looking back at the group to find the cloaked figure had disappeared.

It _was _rather hot outside, Mrs. Weasley thought to herself, and she hadn't gotten much sleep lately. It was just her imagination playing tricks on her. Yes, that was it.

Comforted in her newfound explanation, Mrs. Weasley rejoined the group as her husband led them into Madam Malkin's, where the owner was begging Harry to bless her shop from violence and Death Eaters.

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Well, there you have it:)

Much thanks goes to my beta for the chapter title! More thanks to my reviewers!

Have any questions? I'll be more than glad to answer them. If not, you can check out my author page where it will lead you my my lj where I will hopefully have answers and clues to check for, for the future chapters. :)

And, I have no clue when I will be able to update with more for time is certainly not on my side.


	3. Chapter 3: The Letter

Hello all! I've decided to update once more before the holidays because things have been going very well on this story's behalf!

Happy holidays and enjoy!

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**Disclaimer** (Because I think I forgot all about this beforehand!) - I do not own Harry Potter and Co. I own only the upcoming DADA teacher, a few other OC's, and the mysterious dark stranger, who I all love just as much as Rowling does **her **characters.

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**Dedication **- R J Lupin's Kat because she's the best with helping me understand literature, and 5+ hour long car drives I have to endure with only my music and stories to keep me from going absolutely insane.

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After fussing around in her bed for the millionth time that night, Hermione decided trying to sleep was futile; the nervousness and thrill of finally returning to Hogwarts both overwhelmed and excited her all at the same time. But as she gazed absentmindedly out the window – the trees merely faint outlines in the pre-dawn – she realized that the next time slept in this room she will have graduated Hogwarts.

Anticipation for the morning's journey swam through her veins. Her seventh and final year. She'd be able to see her friends - _and boyfriend_- again. There would be even more to learn about the Wizarding world. There would be N.E.W.T.s. But alas, there would also be Harry and Ron's ingenious attempts get them all killed. (Or worse, expelled.)

Crookshanks leapt onto the bed and made his way towards her, his bottlebrush tail, seemingly larger and more fluffed up than ever, swishing around. He popped onto her lap and curled into a ball, almost immediately achieving sleep. Lucky cat. Hermione sighed and carefully slid down onto the bed, careful not to disturb him.

While she ran her fingers lazily through her feline's fluffed fur, Hermione wondered whom her new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be. Had McGonagall found a replacement for her old job as Transfiguration teacher, now that she was the Headmistress of Hogwarts? Was Slughorn returning to teach Potions?

Regardless, there was no doubt in Hermione's mind that this year was going to be great. Ron and Harry would make sure of that. After all, it was their last year at Hogwarts.

It _was _their last year at Hogwarts.

Hermione closed her eyes in concentrated thought. So many questions bombarded her with this realization. What was going to happen after school? Would she live with Ron the rest of her life? Would she ever become his bride? (She desperately wanted to since she had first laid eyes on him in their first year, though she'd never admit it to anybody.) Would she ever have his children? What would it be like to be Mrs. Ronald Weasley?

But what if she didn't finish her year with Ron by her side as a boyfriend? She couldn't imagine herself with any other seventh year. Maybe after school she would meet new people, make new friends. Who knows? She could fall in love with anyone. Maybe even someone the likes of… Remus Lupin.

She snorted at the thought. Remus Lupin. _Honestly._

She didn't notice the yellow eyes that watched her throughout the night, contemplating. And they watched; and they watched.

* * *

The train ride to Hogwarts was shaping up to be the most peaceful and pleasant ride yet, for there was no Draco Malfoy to torment them. His cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, seemed pretty lonely without the brains of their trio to boss them around and tell them what to do.

When they had first arrived at the platform beforehand, Hermione had once again noticed the mock expressions of glee and joy. And she couldn't help but become one of the crowd, blending in with her fake polite smile that had seemed to satisfy everyone.

The Order, once again, had brought them safely to the Hogwarts Express. Except that this time was void of the company of the excessively cheerful Nymphadora Tonks. Though Harry had questioned Mad-Eye Moody about it, no one would quell their curiosity. But Hermione had noticed after they had asked where Tonks was that they were hushed and rushed onto the train. She had also noticed that one Remus Lupin looked paler and thinner than ever; his smile had turned weak when she'd looked into his glossy blue eyes.

As the steam engine began to churn, Mr. Weasley had to push forcefully through the crowd of people making last promises and yell at the top of his lungs to Hermione, "Don't worry about a thing; we'll look into it!"

She, keeping her title as insufferable know-it-all, understood that Mr. Weasley meant that she shouldn't worry Ron, Harry, or herself about Malfoy. That day in Diagon Alley when Draco had crossed paths with her still hadn't left her mind, and she was concerned. But her boyfriend's father would tell the Order and they would try to find out what the blonde was doing in the bookstore, with an invisibility cloak, nonetheless.

Being his noble, bold, Gryffindor self, Ron pushed his way past the smaller students as Hermione looked on in silent reproach. Harry completely ignored Ron's barbaric behavior; he seemed to be searching the corridor and everybody's face. She, on the other hand, was too deep in thought to even bother telling Ron off (and thus start a whole new publicly-displayed argument for weeks' worth of school gossip).

Each was too intent on other matters to notice that people were now scurrying into compartments. Harry seemed to awaken with a start and shiver and tapped Ron's shoulder, making him turn around.

"I'm going to go find Ginny, Luna, and Neville, alright?" Harry said. Ron was only half-listening; he had turned around only to gape at the now deserted corridor, which had been filled to the brim with students only moments ago.

"Whoa, where'd everyone go?" he asked in amazement as Hermione and Harry also turned to see the corridor. He turned his attention back to Harry. "Oh yeah, that's fine. Hermione and I have to meet up with the other prefects so we'll catch up with you later."

"See you!" Harry called over his shoulder with a wave as he walked away, his head peering in every other compartment.

Ron began to walk in the other direction without a word to Hermione. A bit miffed, still she followed her boyfriend as he sought out the prefects' carriage. He seemed to be a bit distant since she had last seen him. She glanced down at the ring that had not left her finger since Ron had purchased it. She wondered if buying the ring for her was bothering Ron. Was he drawing conclusions that she was going to be a rather expensive girlfriend because she had wanted a ring so early into their relationship?

She snapped out of her train of depressing thoughts as Ron slid open a large compartment door. One glance inside revealed the new fifth year, sixth year, and the rest of the seventh year prefects.

Justin Finch-Fletchley gave Ron a polite nod and greeted him warmly as the redhead took the seat next to him. Ron tried to seem interested in Justin's remarks about his summer holiday, but failed miserably. Hermione, on the other hand, walked in to notice everyone staring at her with wide eyes and a shiver.

Before Hermione could question anyone's bizarre reaction, a small blonde Hufflepuff came up to her with a piece of parchment. Her rosy cheeks went slightly pale as she nervously attempted to give Hermione the paper, but instead dropped it at her feet. Hermione, her nature kind and gentle, retrieved the paper from the floor as the blonde whipped around and scurried back to her seat. The group was expectantly silent.

The brunette gave a small cough to clear her throat then began to read the elegantly written message aloud.

"_Dear Miss Granger,_

_At your earliest opportunity, please inform the prefects of their duties, both old and new ones. Refer to the list I sent to you by owl with your booklist this summer._

_As I have been busy seeking new appointments for the staff, I have only now made my decision for Head Boy and Girl. Please inform the prefects that the position of Head Boy has been given to Mr. Finch-Fletchley." _At this, Hermione paused for a moment; Justin was now jumping around the compartment in joy while everyone gave him their congratulations. Once the din quieted enough to be heard, she continued. _"And the position of Head Girl, Miss Granger, has been given to you."_"

At this, it was Hermione's turn to jump around the expanded compartment room. Everyone gave her their congratulations, including Justin, who began to shake her hand profusely.

After she regained her composure from her impromptu jubilee, Hermione cleared her throat once again. She tried to flatten the rumpled parchment then began to read again.

"_Though quite unpleasant, I must broach another vital topic."_

Everyone scooted closer to the edge of their seats. Hermione glanced around the room to see their faces were now solemn and focused. She continued.

"_Since Mr. Malfoy had left us in June, I have been put in a tough situation of what to do regarding seventh year prefects. I cannot see it fit that Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, Mr. Nott, or Mr. Zabini can handle the responsibility of being the male prefect for the seventh years in the Slytherin House, so I have made it fit that Slytherin instead have two female prefects in seventh year. Please notify Miss Bulstrode of her new prefect duties. Thank you for your cooperation._

"_To conclude, congratulations to all. We face a difficult time ahead, and I prevail upon you all to assist where you can. I look forward to our new year at Hogwarts together. _

_Minerva M. McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"_

At this, everyone looked around the room nervously while Hermione folded the parchment up neatly and put in her cloak pocket. The reprieve lasted only seconds. Then the whole room erupted in loud noise of chatter and complaints, the latter of which was directed at her.

"Why does Slytherin get _two_ girls as prefects?"

"That's no fair; I don't want to do any sort of patrol with _her!_"

"Hey, she doesn't want to do it with incompetent morons _either!"_

"Blaise would be a good candidate for seventh year prefect!"

"If she is allowed to change the rules, then I want to too!"

"Not fair!"

"Why does that-that _barbaric elephant _get to be a prefect?"

"Hey, back off!"

"Leave Millicent alone, you stupid bloody little twerp!"

"I want my friend to be a prefect, too, if that _thing _can be a prefect!"

"That's no way to compliment your friend there Freddy!"

"Give that newbie my shifts, and I won't complain!"

"Why do I, for Merlin's sake, have to be stuck with _her _of all people?"

"I don't like you either, so shut it!"

"Why are _you_ Head Girl? _I _would be _such_ a better Head Girl than you!"

"Where do I get to file a complaint?"

All the exclamations and questions were giving Hermione a horrible headache. She moaned in pain, clutched her head, and leaned onto the wall for support. Ron, being a good boyfriend, stood up and was about to shut them all up before he was forced to use magic.

But something beat Ron to his protective duties.

It was as if someone had pulled a rather long sword out of its holder. The sound of scraping metal erupted throughout the room, causing people to freeze in mid-rant and stare in utter horror at something behind her. The noise ceased as Hermione wheeled around, only to find merely the door there. Was there something wrong? Had she sprouted another head? What were they all gaping at? And that noise… Was it all in her head? She couldn't remember any sort of spell or jinx that could cause such a shrill.

What made her head ache even more were the screeches of the younger prefects: more and more complaints and the constant arguing in the room that seemed to grow louder and louder by the minute. With her eyes closed, she leaned back into the wall. As she attempted to ease the pain, she heard the light _thuds_ of bodies falling to the ground; the younger ones had fainted.

Hermione opened her eyes to see that no one had noticed her and were too busy with the catastrophes of the moment to see the new Head Girl in pain.

She knew she could no longer hold herself up and felt herself falling freely to the ground before somebody or some_thing_, caught her. Her eyes couldn't focus on her savior; they could only obey her command to close, to get some rest. She felt her body being dragged across the carpet. The door opened before whoever had caught her. Then she felt herself being dragged out of the room, the door closing behind her. After some distance, she felt herself pulled into another room and laid carefully onto the seat of a normal compartment.

She moaned in pain at her heavy head trying to adjust to the hard seat before trying to open her eyes. She managed to do so enough to see only something covered in black that strangely enough reminded her of Professor Snape. Her eyes began to water at the effort and she moaned once more at her throbbing head. Before she knew it, her eyes gave up the fight to focus on the someone before her – the someone who had caught her, protected her, saved her.

Then everything went black.

Hermione had lost consciousness.

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**Questions, concerns, comments?** I'm right here to answer anything as best I can, for I've been feeling really generouslately(even though it will be a bit delayed due to the lack of computer in my near future, but nothing drastic or serious).

Review please!

I know this is an evil cliffhanger, but does my penname _not _have evil in it? (Even thoughthe evil partwas intended for my cat.)

Ohho! In the next chapter, you all get to understand some of the mighty power of our dark stranger has _and_ you'll get to meet the new DADA teacher! I don't know about you, but I'm excited!

Once again, please review! If you're an author, you'll know how much reviewing motivates you! (Unless you're that kind of person who hates people or something.)

**Happy holidays everyone:)**


	4. Chapter 4: New Faces

Since you were all so patient and so nice, I decided to update once again to quell your curiousity. Plus, my beta's getting farther ahead in the story than expected. :)

**Chapter 4**

**_New Faces_**

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**Disclaimer **- I do not own Harry Potter and Co. I do own some pictures I drew of them and some very scary and ridiculous plot bunnies. I'm sure J.K. Rowling must go through the torture of her own plot bunnies, which, sickly enough, makes me happy. :)

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**Dedication** - to the anonymous who left a review that made me laugh and smile, and to getting over those **silly little feelings** that only drag you down in the end.

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"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!" Headmistress McGonagall cried happily with a sweet smile. Everyone whooped in approval of her less stern attitude. They needed something to be joyful about.

Hermione, on the other hand, was silent as she stared at her empty golden plate. Her face shone back at her as if scolding herself to stop being selfish and cheer with everyone else. She had even agreed with herself that she didn't want to be the one to cause the turn of frowns.

But something was wrong and she knew it. It was eating her from the inside, but no matter how hard she tried, it would not rid itself from her mind. Who had dragged her into the empty compartment on the train?

She remembered waking up to find everyone staring at her with wide eyes. Ron was shaking, his expression torn with worry. But when she questioned what had made everybody go insane before, they had answered as if it was obvious: she had fainted for reasons unknown. When she had mentioned how they had bothered her with questions, they gave each other confused looks. According to Ron, she had fainted immediately after she finished reading the letter…before anyone had a chance to complain.

Was it her imagination or was something off? It was too early in the year for a mental breakdown.

The brunette sighed and looked up at McGonagall as she woman raised her golden goblet. Hermione ignored the bright light reflecting off of the jewels and looked into the old woman's face. There, hidden beneath the surface, was the look of utter sorrow, depression, stress, and worry.

Was it possible that Dumbledore and the person replacing him were more than just friends and colleagues during his reign as Headmaster?

Her new train of thought was abruptly cut off when McGonagall spoke with a bittersweet edge over the din covering the Great Hall.

"As you all know, last June we were met with the untimely death of Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she said as her fingers folded into one another. She peered over her spectacles to view the entire student body. Sorrow mirrored their faces as they were reminded of the tearful tragedy of mere months before.

"But," she continued. "His death is an event of the past, and we must keep it that way. We should neither look back on it in grief and sorrow, nor in anger and revenge, but only to reflect and find strength in.

"As Deputy Headmistress, upon Headmaster Dumbledore's untimely death, I, Professor M. McGonagall, became the new Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I shall try my best to see it fit that this school is run as it was before. I know that I am not Albus Dumbledore, nor am I as entertaining as he was." At this, she peered once again over her glasses to see faces breaking out into smiles, her own included. It disappeared as she continued, "If you all cooperate, I will see to it that there are more social activities in addition to Quidditch games and Hogsmeade visits."

Once again, everyone began to whoop in approval while a humorous smile again crept onto McGonagall's face.

"You older students should all know by now what is allowed and not allowed in the hallways; for First Years and those who do not know, there is a growing list of everything suspended posted in Mr. Filch's office. Please feel free to stop by and check it out, or if you feel more comfortable, you may stop by my office and check with me. As always, the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds to all students, except those with written faculty permission and a chaperone.

"All Quidditch schedules and try-outs will be posted in your common rooms next Wednesday along with a complete list of the items Mr. Filch has banned. Once again, all incoming packages will undergo a complete search, but only by magic so that your presents and letters are not totally destroyed."

The silence was palpable as McGonagall looked around before continuing with a smile.

"I would like you to welcome and respect our new, kind professor," McGonagall began as Hermione searched over the students' heads to find the unfamiliar face at the Head Table. "Please welcome Professor E. Eucken, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Eucken was a bit difficult to track down, I might add."

A man with a plastered grin upon his face, seated next to a very happy Professor Sprout, stood up. Instantly, Lavender and Parvati began to giggle continuously, almost stupidly. Hermione began to wonder why. As she turned her head to see the man again, she felt herself blush.

No wonder Professor Sprout was ecstatic! The man was absolutely gorgeous! His perfectly tanned skin and black shoulder-length hair put even Firenze, the Centaur, to shame.

While Lavender, Parvati, and the rest of the female population at Hogwarts quieted their giggles, Professor Eucken sat back down, his tanned face now tinged in pink. Professor Sprout elbowed him playfully with a wink, causing him, it appeared, further embarrassment.

Hermione looked down at her yellow ring and felt guilty. She felt like was betraying Ron even though she was only admiring her attractive professor. Were her affections leaning into the wrong place? Looking at Parvati (who was giggling once again), Hermione wondered if her fellow Gryffindor felt as guilty as she did. Why was the girl doing this when she also had a boyfriend – Terry Boot – seated next to her? He, along with many of the other male upperclassmen, was now glaring at the new professor with a hint of jealous disdain.

Hermione glanced at Ron, only to see him giving the nastiest glare to the sheepish-looking teacher. He turned back to Hermione, who guiltily gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. He stonily returned his glare back to his plate, making her feel horrible and, further still, guilty.

"I now recommend you all go to bed and enjoy a restful night's sleep everyone! Good luck this year!" McGonagall called out to everyone as they began to make their way out the Great Hall, stomachs full and content. Hermione noticed that since there wasn't another new teacher, McGonagall must be planning to teach Transfiguration along with her Headmistress duties. And that also meant Slughorn was to still be the Potions Master of the school. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Hermione, seizing her opportunity to fulfill her Head Girl duties, pushed her way through the crowd forcefully. She wouldn't be able to make it through the crowd being her usual meek self.

"Head Girl coming through!" she yelled over the noise of the chattering houses. Finding her way to the front, she cried over her shoulder, "First year Gryffindors follow me, please!"

She felt like Percy Weasley, the thought of which brought shivers to her. But she ignored the thought as she began to lead the tired, frightened first years to their warm, comfortable beds.

While most of the Gryffindor population followed her lead, she began to wonder how best to approach Ron about the tender subject of Professor Eucken. Before she had made a plan, they reached the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Password?" The Fat Lady asked dramatically with a wave of her hand fan. Hermione tried desperately not to roll her eyes. Always the drama diva.

"Lutine bell," Hermione replied. The Fat Lady nodded her head gracefully and swung open her frame to let her and the other Gryffindors enter the common room. Once she saw the portrait close and all the students had made it successfully into the common room without getting lost, she cleared her throat loudly, silencing everyone. The older students mostly continued on to their dorm rooms, but the first years waited expectantly for Hermione to speak.

She pointed to the left and called out, "That is the door that leads to the girls' dormitories. The one next to it, on the right, leads to the boys'. Your trunks, books and Gryffindor accessories should be waiting for you."

Just as they began to split up into little groups to head to their dorms, Hermione continued her speech. "Feel free to come to me if you need any help. For anyone, my room is at the top of the tower in the girls' dormitories. If you are a guy, please ask a girl to retrieve me for you won't be able to do so."

A small boy shot his hand up, starting Hermione. It made her wonder if this is what all her teachers had to endure during their days of teaching her in her first year.

"Um…yes?" she asked him hesitantly, a small smile forced upon her face. She was tired, preoccupied and merely desired the privacy of her room as soon as possible.

"Why can't we 'retrieve' you?" he asked her cockily. The younger girls giggled and the boys laughed and sniggered. The blonde boy crossed his arms over his chest, daring her for an acceptable explanation. Hermione wondered if she should use Harry, Seamus, or Neville for her answer.

"Hey, Seamus!" Hermione called to the seventh year who had yet to trounce up the stairs. The young man walked over to her with a curious expression as she bit her lower lip. As he neared her, she grabbed his ear, startling him. She then whispered a lie into his ear hoping he'd believe her.

After she let go of his ear, he straightened up and beamed at her. She hoped he didn't notice that the staircase he was about to go up wouldn't let him get to his desired destination. He pointed in question to the door leading to the girls' dormitories; she nodded in confirmation.

Seamus then ran as fast as he could to the door, still believing her lie. He threw the door open. Before he'd climbed five steps, the staircases realized who it was and, before they all knew it, the stairs melted under the seventh year's feet, causing him to fall face forward into the slide. He slid quickly down, crashing gracelessly into a lump on the carpet. She turned cheerfully to the first years as they either goggled at the staircase (which had by then changed back into its original design) or laughed at the disheveled Seamus.

"And that, _boys_," Hermione declared as they all turned to her, "is why you cannot go up the girls' dormitories stairs. And to remind you all, you have two and a half hours until I come down here and you're all going up to your dorms for bed."

While the first years began to explore the room excitedly or hurried to their dorms, Hermione felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around to find Ginny beaming at her.

"Do you think I could talk to you?" Ginny asked her, looking around the room quickly. Hermione didn't think she had anything to do besides unpack, but then she remembered that she had to apologize to Ron.

"Absolutely, but I have to talk to Ron first," Hermione replied, glancing around the room to see that Ron had disappeared.

"What did he do now?" Ginny questioned, her hands on her hips with a Mrs. Weasley-esque look that made Hermione flinch.

"He didn't do anything; it was me," the brunette confessed sheepishly. Even though she could've done much worse things like seducing her professor, she still felt like she had done something truly wrong.

"Hermione Jane Granger," Ginny started with a no-nonsense attitude. She took her friend's hand before guiding her to her Head Girl room.

Even though Hermione knew where her room was, she knew it was better to let Ginny do what she wanted – she was a very determined Gryffindor girl. Right when they came to the proper door, the staircase seemed to grow darker than usual. Both girls shivered. Ginny let Hermione's hand go, while the latter had to take a few minutes to remember what McGonagall had told her to gain access to the room.

The brunette placed her hand on the doorknob, mumbled a few words and the door instantly opened up. The two entered the spacious Head Girl room.

Before Hermione realized she'd been holding her breath, Ginny gave her a look that said, '_Alright, it's confession time, young lady_.' Hermione rolled her eyes and slumped onto her lovely four-poster bed.

"I was looking at that new teacher, Professor Eucken, and, well… found him rather attractive," Hermione confessed, feeling her face burn up in embarrassment. She had never confessed her fancies to girls out of fear of them teasing or laughing at her.

"And…?" Ginny pressed on as she sat on the bed right next to Hermione. The latter was feeling more and more ridiculous by the minute. "Are you telling me you were going to confess some little school-girl crush to Ron?"

"What's wrong with telling Ron my feelings for other men?" Hermione asked, feeling for the first time since she'd known Ginny that she was actually the student and the redhead was the teacher. "It's being honest. I promised Ron I'd be honest with him."

"You're being _too_ honest," Ginny explained simply before adding, "And guilty."

The younger girl turned to her friend, her bright green eyes shining with humor and shook her head. "It's alright if you have a few crushes on other men while you see Ron. It's _fine_. You're not always going to be glued to Ron's side, so just detach yourself once in a while before either of you gets annoyed with the other's constant presence. It's called 'Breathing Room,' Hermione. As long as you're not seeking more than friendships with any of your crushes, young lady, then having fancies is fine."

At this, Ginny waved a threatening finger at Hermione, who giggled before rolling her eyes and climbing off the bed. Hermione looked at her ring; she was getting a bit obsessive about it. She knew right away that her boyfriend had intentionally sought out his brothers after he had bought her jewelry, simply to have time with other people without her at his side constantly.

While Hermione was deep in thought, a shiver crossed Ginny and, startled, she looked up to see a large mirror standing in front her. There, in the reflection, stood a dark cloaked figure with narrowed yellow eyes. As if teasingly, it flex long, sharp claws at her and gave her a sloppy grin. The redhead nervously jerked around to see whose reflection it was, only to find no one there. Still troubled, she decided it was either a trick of the room's light or her imagination.

"Well, I'd better get going," Ginny declared, feeling as though she was talking to the reflected image rather than the brunette beside her. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep. I'll see you in the morning!"

"Goodnight, Ginny and thanks for your help!" Hermione called after her as the redhead left the room quickly.

Left alone, Hermione leisurely peered around the room. There wasn't enough lighting, she thought. It had seemed so bright to her before; were her eyes playing tricks on her?

She shrugged to herself and, noticing the still-early hour, decided to go tell Harry to make the students to go up to bed at the time they were supposed to. She, instead, would be making an early night of it.

She quickly made her way to the common room where Harry was playing chess – and losing quite badly – with a second year. She was surprised Ron was not there.

After informing the emerald-eye boy of her plans to turn in early – earning her a shrug reply – she returned to her room, lighting more lamps to brighten the dreary ambience. After locking the door against the quite-probable female and most-improbable male intrusions, she began to undress in preparation for bed.

While she peeled her clothes off her tired and worn body, wide yellow eyes danced over her exposed flesh.

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Alrighty! Another chapter down, 20-something more to go!

For some odd reason, I love that last sentence. It shows that our dear stranger is not only following Hermione, but he may also be developing feelings for her. Who knows?

I noticed that the last chapter had a very large boost in reviews compared to the others.Was is the cliff hanger or that you're all starting to like this story? I'd like to know, even though I won't be able to change everything to everybody's liking!

**Questions, concerns, comments?** You know how to contact me! (P.S. I like questions.)

All authors out there should know the joy of seeing other people respond to their work. Review please!


	5. Chapter 5: Crying Over Spilt Potion

First off, I'd like to thank everyone for the reviews! They were marvelous and a sheer pleasure to read and respond to.

I sort of forgot to mention that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's last name is German. Eucken is pronounced Oi-kin.

A reponse to**Kimi **before I forget: Thanks for the review! And sit back and relax, you'll get the humor you wanted. You're smart:)

**Chapter 4**

**_Crying Over Spilt Potion_**

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**Disclaimer **- I do not own Harry Potter and Co. Sadly, I report that this is true. It seems owning the computer games is, unfortunately, not enough.

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**Dedication **- to the ghost that hurts me. Micah is somewhat based on you, my love.

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Hermione woke up to a dimly lit room, only the sun's rays brought illumination to it. Her hands danced around the entangled sheets while her legs rubbed the lovely silk she had the pleasure in meeting last night. She giggled and wrapped the feather-light softness around her body. 

Hermione groaned at the magic clock that told her she was a minute ahead of her intended morning schedule. She savored her last minute wrapped in the sheet before the clock erupted loudly in marching band music. She scowled; her demure peace was now history.

Feeling like she was in a parade for nearly thirty seconds, Hermione decided she wasn't going to disobey the alarm clock. It wouldn't due to run late her first day back.

Hermione shivered after stripping off her pajamas. She'd forgotten the chill the castle took on in the early morn. Reluctantly straying from her fireplace, she opened the door to her compact bathroom. With only a shower, sink, and toilet, it was much smaller than the prefects' bathroom she enjoyed the previous two years, but that didn't bother her in the least. She wasn't snobby and didn't expect the best bathroom facilities that Hogwarts could offer her. It was plenty large enough for herself; and after all, she thought ruefully, it would take less time to heat up.

While the shower water warmed, Hermione located shampoo, soap and a downy towel provided for her. One tentative sample of the spray on her hand told her the water had sufficiently heated, and she danced her way into the shower. The warm water caressed her and loosened her muscles, making her sigh in relief. _The simple pleasures_, she thought, _whether Muggle or witch_.

She sighed again as she ran her hands through her long hair, un-sticking it from her bare body. It would be worth waking up early daily just to get better aquatinted with the shower.

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"We've got Slughorn today," Harry remarked dryly as he bit into his toast before adding with a half-full mouth, "and that Eucken guy." 

Ron snorted into his food at that last remark; Hermione felt her cheeks burn. The girls nearest them at the Gryffindor table huffed in annoyance. Hermione would have liked to agree with the other girls for once, but she couldn't afford to lose Ron. He was her boyfriend – the only serious relationship she'd ever had – and she wanted desperately to be with him for the rest of her life.

As she toyed with the yellow ring around her finger, she felt her cheeks warm further. Was Ron _still_ mad about yesterday?

'_Well, he isn't going to get an apology_,' Hermione thought with a huff. She studied her full plate in silent contemplation.

Who did he think she was? She scowled, mentally taking up her defense. She was going to have feelings about other people, no matter what. Just because she sort of, kind of, barely had one little _schoolgirl crush_ on an attractive professor didn't mean she was going to break up with Ron and run away crying. _Honestly._

What did he think she was, _a scarlet woman?_ As she snorted at the thought, Hermione looked over her schedule. She was sorely tempted to get out her quill and ink and draw little hearts around the name '_Professor E. Eucken_'. She brushed away the flash of second year and Lockhart that popped into her head. But before she could consider it further, she felt Ginny sit down beside her and quickly decided otherwise.

She looked up to greet her boyfriend's sister and noticed the girl's bright green eyes were wide, staring at the opposite wall Great Hall. Before Hermione could question Ginny's strange behavior, the latter seemed to get a grip on herself and turned to Hermione.

"M-morning, Hermione," Ginny greeted shakily. Her face was pale and her expression strained. Hermione gave her a concerned look before replying.

"What's wrong, Ginny?" Hermione asked, her worry increasing tenfold as realization set in. "You're shaking! Oh Ginny, you don't look well at all. Let's take you to visit Madam Promfrey."

"Might as well," Ginny replied with a weak smile. "But I'll go myself. You stay and finish breakfast. Please?" she added before Hermione could object. Then she was up and off, quickly hurrying out of the Great Hall as though any social event such as breakfast was too intimidating and she was glad someone suggested she leave.

Hermione watched her retreating back, thoughtful. Harry did the same, a large frown forming on his face. Ron, on the other hand, continued to stuff his face full of kippers and toast, oblivious. _Men._

* * *

Slughorn had finished his rather short summary and lecture on the importance of N.E.W.T.s, reminding everyone that he was open for any apprenticeships. His eyes darted to and focused on Harry, the latter conveniently looking about as though he had lost a book. 

"What are you going to do without the _Prince_ to help you?" Hermione asked him smugly as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Slughorn's attention had returned to the full class as he explained a potion they were going to work on.

"Leave him alone, Hermione," Ron hissed, a frown etched on his face. "He'll manage; now quit acting like it was entirely his fault for how it all happened."

Hermione turned back quickly toward her empty cauldron and tried to hide the tears that were starting to form. Of course, this wasn't the _first _time Ron had ridiculed her, but she certainly hoped it was the last. She really wasn't blaming Harry about that whole Half-Blood Prince thing! She really was curious how he was going to manage, considering everything he did last year was inspired by Professor Snape, of all people. But Ron immediately saw her as criticizing. Was she acting like a stuck up snob on purpose? Or was Ron being really moody? Come to think of it, he hadn't even greeted her today with a hug or a kiss like he normally did…

"Turn your books to page one hundred and fifty six," Slughorn announced, running his pudgy fingers across the desks he crossed as everyone did as they were told. Hermione was trying desperately not to cry; she had a potion to complete. She wouldn't be able to see much of anything if her eyes were all watery!

"You have the rest of the class period, which is…" He glanced at his pocket watch. "Seventy minutes, indeed!"

Hermione suddenly realized she hadn't been paying attention, and as she looked on the page, she wanted to cry in frustration. There was no way she would be able to complete the potion in less than seventy minutes! While she concluded that she could at least start the potion and try to finish it as quickly as possible, she doubted it would be finished in time. Hermione frantically raced to the student cupboard and began to extract the necessary ingredients.

Forty minutes into the class, she realized she had forgotten the beetle eyes. She wanted to roll up into a ball and cry her eyes out until someone had to pry her off the floor. Instead, she bit her lip and sought out the missing ingredient. Once she quickly dropped it in, the concoction began to hiss at her as if it were Professor Snape telling her what a foolish, insolent little girl she was. Trying not to give into the desire to run around the room crying and pulling her hair out until her ached horribly, she quickly began to stir in some flaxseed, counting the number of turns it took to dissolve. Next, she dropped in the fleawort and watched the potion turn a bright pink that Parvati and Lavender would have 'oohed' over. It was supposed to be a bright purple.

'_What did I do wrong?_' she cried out desperately in her head. She began to tug on her bushy hair, already exceptionally puffy due to the surrounding cauldrons' rising steam. While she softly whimpered as the potion began to boil and hiss over an almost dead flame, Harry and Ron simply stared in amazement; Hermione wasn't perfect when it came to potions, but she never failed to make one correctly.

As the pink potion began to rise, Hermione whimpered a bit louder and took a step back. The ooze began to overflow and drip onto the wooden table, sizzling. It left in its wake a little hole, reminding where both the potion and the table were, and where neither was now.

To make matters worse, Professor Slughorn was headed around the table for inspection. Harry, his "saving people thing" instinct kicking in, vanished the potion with a wave of his wand before Slughorn could witness it.

But it was too late; the professor had already noticed.

"Ms. Granger, I presume?" Slughorn called out as everyone turned to stare at Hermione. She tried not to cry; never had she failed something before! As she whimpered a reply and nodded, the professor looked around the cauldron, catching sight of the new hole in the table. "Hmm… It seems that if you could take a leaf out of Harry's book, you'd see to not just add the fleawort, but you also had to add the unicorn hair at precisely the same time to cancel out the acid that is produced."

Hermione numbly looked over at Harry's potion to see it the exact color of purple in the book. As if it was a planned lecture, Slughorn began to praise Harry and continue to compare his potion to hers and everyone else's. Harry, to his credit, appeared dumbfounded and at a loss for words. At least he wasn't rubbing it in.

As she repeated to herself that she couldn't be perfect in everything, something in her snapped and she burst out crying. This, of course, startled Harry and Ron more than anyone else. Hermione simply did not cry. Not over spilt potion, anyway. They'd never seen her so upset since third year, when she tried to drive herself mad doubling up on courses and reliving hours over.

"Come, come now," Slughorn started cheerfully, trying to make light. But he failed miserably as she buried her face into her hands, wishing for immediate death.

Everyone began to look at her sympathetically. Slughorn tried once again to cheer her up. "Harry has his mother's talent for potions; it's hereditary. So don't blame yourself. There's nothing you can do, especially if your parents weren't good in potions (which of course Muggles tend to fall short of mastering, their attempts at chemistry are enough said)…"

At this, Hermione let out a long howling sob as she continued to cry and wish she was someone else.

Just then, as Slughorn looked up, he saw something dark and black moving amongst the shadows. Before he knew it, someone wearing a rather dark scowl, in his opinion, slammed the door shut with a heavy _bang_.

As everyone (including a now silent Head Girl) jerked his or her heads towards the door, the shadow with its bright yellow eyes disappeared abruptly, only to reappear at Slughorn's side. The professor sensed the presence next to him, and, out of fear, looked desperately at the wall and not at the being beside him. Then he felt hot breath in his ear.

"_I will not tolerate that again,_" it hissed venomously before disappearing in a blink.

As if the class was thawing from a frozen state, heads began to turn back towards Hermione, who was now swiftly gathering her things and shoving them into her bag. Embarrassed and confused, she fled the classroom and her curious classmates, refusing to look back.

If she had spared but a passing glance, she would have seen a dark, shadowy figure following closely behind her, without a care if anyone saw it or not.

* * *

More of the "shadow" in this chapter and even _more..._

I myself was not absolutely thrilled with this chapter, but it is somewhat vital - it is the keythat unlocks something rather large.

Pardon my lack of Potion-knowledge. I did not want to go searching deeply or making up nonesense, so I tried the best thing I could do: ignore it. There is only so much you are limited to. Potions, to me, isn't necessary in writing Harry Potter fanfic, so I do not try to learn it.

And I tried to write and keep Slughorn's character without making him OOC, but it was rather challenging. He isn't necessarily one of my most favorite characters of all time.

But, other than that, you can check out my livejournal (which is located in my author's page) for any hints, clues, etc...

**Questions, concerns, comments?** You know how to contact me!

Review please!


	6. Chapter 6: I'm Off To Meet The Wizard!

Ah, I would like to first say: "I'm dreadfully _sorry!_" And, no, it has nothing to do with waiting a bit longer to post this chapter up, it's because this chapter is incredibly short. And because I called the last chapter Chapter 4, when it was Chapter 5. Sorry! (Though no one caught it.)

**Chapter 6**

**_"I'm Off To Meet The Wizard!"_**

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**Disclaimer- **I, sad to say, do not own Harry Potter and Co. I do own some of the trading cards, though!

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**Dedication- **to **Bethany **because she's the best ever, and to the **young man who wears too much make-up**: I think you're beautiful, even though you look so lonely and sad as you sit alone on the green, water soaked bench with your long, soaked hair hiding your eyes that look my way.

* * *

For the remainder of the day Hermione had isolated herself in either the library or the bathroom between classes. She looked at her schedule hopefully; she only had one more class to go before she could hide in her private rooms for the rest of the night.

The raw humiliation and utter torture of her reputation being bent was beginning to slowly eat at her brain and ego. So far no one had even sent another girl to search her out in the girls' bathrooms. That alone made her feel unloved and lonely.

'_But she was being ridiculous!_' she thought. Everyone was used to it when Ron made fun of her before, and even that would often send her crying to the bathroom. They would think nothing out of the ordinary.

And she _did_ have Eucken to look forward to meeting, she thought, as she peered hesitantly out the bathroom door. Once she marked the way clear she stepped out and headed toward the third floor corridor, where Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught.

The more she considered it, the more she realized she was acting like some stupid little schoolgirl instead of the mature Head Girl she was. Head held high, Hermione walked toward the slowly growing queue outside the DADA classroom. Harry's emerald eyes focused on her, a large grin instantly appearing on his face. Hermione visibly relaxed.

"Hey, Hermione! Doing alright?" He called to her. She made her way between students to his side, her gaze sliding to Ron before answers. Funny, but he was looking at her as though he didn't know her.

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine," she replied with a small smile. She turned to Ron who was still staring at her oddly, the same look in his eyes as on the day she greeted him in Diagon Alley. Before her smile could falter, though, a figure made its way towards the group, distracting her saddening thoughts.

"Good afternoon!" the masculine voice greeted pleasantly. Parvati squealed in delight, leading the chorus of feminine exclamations. Hermione was, in her opinion, _thankfully_ not among them. Ron, Harry and the boys instantly began to glare as the figure became more visible.

Professor Eucken stood in front of them, his hands on his narrow waist and a great big smile on his handsome face. Hermione had to blush at herself for thinking of cheesy things to describe his good features.

His dark eyes gazed along the crowd of either wide grins (from the girls), scowls (from the boys), or the single innocent face of the Head Girl. His smile grew exponentially as their eyes locked.

"Hermione Granger?" he asked politely, stepping forward. The girls all glared at her in confused jealousy, tempting her to take a step back and run towards the bathrooms once again. Next to her, Harry seemed to have frozen in a brotherly-protective state, refusing to step away so their professor could greet her.

She nodded dumbly and bit her lower lip, her nerves fraying as he took another step forward. In his eyes there lurked a large twinkle, reminding her painfully of Dumbledore. He reacted as though he was in the presence of a goddess, extending his hand toward her with reverence and awe. She looked at it oddly.

"I've heard a great deal about your excellent grades and remarkable ideas," he gushed as she took his large hand. He shook it enthusiastically. "I've heard many things about you, both good and bad, but never in my wildest dreams had I thought I would be able to _teach_ _you!_ Believe me when I tell you I've heard many compliments about you, especially from Remus Lupin!"

Hermione felt a blush creep up to her face as his large hands let go of her petite ones.

Professor Eucken continued to gaze at her with adoring eyes and a wide smile. It was a bit reminiscent of Lockhart, truth be told, only Eucken was appraising someone other than himself.

Hermione wondered how many people had complimented her so much to him. Remarkable ideas? Who said that? And such compliments from _Lupin!_ Never in her wildest dreams did she believe _he_ would have more to say than perhaps Professor McGonagall!

Seeming to rouse himself, he shook his head slightly, gave her a polite nod with a smaller smile and stepped back. She heard Lavender and Parvati giggling madly as he resumed his front-of-the-class position and spoke to the entire group enthusiastically.

"Hello All! I am Professor Eucken, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" he greeted with clasped hands. The girls all focused their attention on him. The boys grudgingly so. "Today I would like us all to go outside for class so you can all get some nice fresh air before the homework starts pouring in!"

Ron and Harry flinched at his verb usage before their professor turned on his heal and began to walk away. The class, a bit startled yet joyful they would get to go outside, quickly followed.

All of a sudden, Ron clasped Hermione's hand protectively into his. Delight shone on her face in a smile. She felt relieved that Ron was now trying to protect her from any sort of interloper's affection. Whether it was admiration or even something more, the affection their professor seemed to hold for her was enough to trigger his sense of possessiveness. Normally she would find that irritating, but after his blasé faire attitude lately, Hermione was positively giddy. She smiled broadly as Ron looked strangely at her. Harry was too busy talking to Seamus about something to notice.

"I missed this," she whispered. In explanation she showed her darling redhead their clasped hands, her yellow ring shining brightly. His sheepish mien was doused in guilt, and he pulled his hand out of hers then wrapped his arm around her endearingly, causing her to snuggle closer to his body's warmth.

She sighed contently, closing her eyes and dreaming about becoming Mrs. Ronald Weasley. Stifled laughs drew her out of her visions. Her eyes popped open, glanced around and quickly found the source. Seamus and Harry had apparently turned around to watch the blissful couple. Harry let out a snort.

"At it again, are you?" Seamus called cockily. Ron turned a bright red, causing Dean to join in their laughter. "Watch out Hermione, he'll snog the pieces out of you!"

While she scowled at the immature boys, she felt Ron tighten his hold on her. Stupid Gryffindor boys. Thank Merlin she wasn't falling for those imbeciles. While the boys began to snigger with Ron now scowling at them, Hermione again looked down at her ring and sighed contently. _Mrs. Ronald Weasley…_

After they had all made it outside with the bright sun shining above them and the dew-soaked green grass licking their feet, Professor Eucken instructed them to sit down on the ground. He soon joined them, gracefully reclining upon the turf.

"Well, let me begin by telling you all a bit about myself," he proposed. Ron let his arm drop from Hermione's shoulder and reclaimed her hand. "And then we can all go around and say something about ourselves.

"My name is Professor Eucken," he continued, but before he could offer more of himself, Parvati cut him off with her raised hand. He looked at her oddly before nodding in her direction, signaling her permission to speak. She squealed.

"What's your _given_ name?" she asked enthusiastically while the other girls giggled and waited eagerly for his reply.

He chuckled. "Well, it's Edmund," he replied truthfully and continued like he would have before he was interrupted. "I grew up over my father's bookshop," (at this, Hermione found him absolutely lucky to have access to so many books at a young age), "and attended a private Wizarding school before dropping out and exploring the world. As you have heard our Headmistress hint, she has been trying to contact me for a few years for this post. But, alas, it was always too late when the letter arrived; I had moved on to a new locale."

"Where did you go when you were exploring the world?" Dean asked without raising his hand. He peered over Lavender's body to see his professor's reaction. The whole class seemed to be hanging on to what the professor would reply, for no other teacher had opened up to them before.

"Oh, pretty much everywhere," he explained ambiguously with a smile. Everyone began to shout out questions, eager to learn his answer. He chuckled again and replied to Dean's query.

"I went to America, Egypt, Greenland, China, Russia, Cuba, Japan, Mexico, South Africa, Antarctica, Turkey, Australia, Canada, Italy, the Philippines, France, South America, Ireland, Germany, Iceland, Switzerland, Norway, Brazil, Greece, Portugal, India, and... other little places you've probably never even heard of."

Eyes widened and jaws dropped; their professor merely grinned impishly then casually waved towards Parvati. She stopped giggling and began to blush a deep crimson at his attention.

"Let's start with you," he started politely with a comforting nod. "I'd like to get to know you all a bit more than just your names and grades."

"Oh," Parvati began disappointedly with a slight pout. "I'm Parvati Patel…um…I have a twin, Padma who's in Ravenclaw, and – er – yeah…"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Parvati and the other girls burst out into giggles. While their professor was patiently and eagerly waiting for what she had to say next, for the first time in history, Hermione wished she were somewhere else… with Ron.

Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines and gave her a bored look. She returned it with interest and casually leaned her head onto his shoulder. Parvati was trying to talk but kept bursting into fits of giggles with the other dense girls. It was annoying Hermione beyond words. She closed her eyes and inwardly cringed at the abrasive noise of tittering females.

Hermione continued longing to be alone with Ron for the time being; she wanted to explain to him with actions that she was more than willing to take the next step in their relationship. She rubbed her head against Ron's shoulder in a catlike motion. She couldn't help but smile when he squeezed her hand, almost as if telling her things that no one else could possibly understand.

* * *

Well, there you have it! Short, I know...

But I find that the chapter was suited to my liking, so I will not try to "beef it up".

**Kimi **- Thanks for the review! Oh, yes, how I would have loved the story to have gone inthe directionof having the "shadow" beat prat!Ron up so soon, but not _yet_. :)

As for anymore notes from me, well, I don't really have anything to say as of yet. To check out some hints/clues or whatever for this chapter, stop by my livejournal (its location can be found in my author page name) and leave a comment. :)

Reviews would be more than welcome, so please leave one!


	7. Chapter 7: Huh, Men!

Anyway, I'm horrible, I admit.

It's Saturday and I should have updated on Thursday. And don't lash at me! **Brittany Malfoy**'s doing that for you. Well, actually, soon it'll be Sunday...I now notice how times flies when one is trying to work and talk at the same time.

**Chapter 7**

**_Huh, Men!_**

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**Disclaimer - **I do not own Harry Potter and Co. Must you bother me about it?

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**Dedication **- To the** young man that is a jerk sometimes**, did I mention that you're a jerk when you're around the wrong people?

* * *

The first month had quickly gone by for Hermione; she didn't even realize it until she looked at the calendar she had magically tacked to her wall.

Her parents had warned her, telling her stories about how their last years of school went by in a flash and how they had regretted not having all the fun they could have had with their friends. Hermione didn't want to catch herself wanting to sneak around and trash the Slytherin's common room instead of studying, but her parents' advice haunted her. If she didn't let loose some, would she regret it? Then again, one could not in good conscience suggest she hadn't turned a blind eye to the rules once in a while. Her adventures following Harry and Ron's lead would attest to that.

She was thankful for the yellow ring for it seemed the superstition was working. Her relationship with Ron was quickly becoming more romantic, with private snogging sessions that seemed to last forever. Even though Ron only had the weekends free, (Hermione found the prefects had a tougher patrolling schedule than she), they were able to cram in time to see each other.

He always took two hours after his patrols before meeting her. He claimed he was trying to actually do his homework now because he wanted good grades so he could either become an Auror or a professional Quidditch player.

In a seeming heartbeat she found it to be the beginning of October already. Reflecting on the past month she also found that her two of her professors were leaning toward peculiarity. Professor Slughorn was making it a hobby to either give her a funny look while he thought she wasn't looking, or pretend she was Harry and praise her like a god. Professor Eucken, on the other hand, would always make a point to give her a wide smile or a gracious nod as if thanking her for making his day. These actions always had Ron's ears turning red and his fists clenched up so his knuckles turned white.

If she wasn't already bombarded with deadlines and responsibilities, she was now being ordered to so many different prefect meetings that she was losing track of everything. It didn't help that most kept being cancelled or re-arranged, and not due to her decisions.

Finally, after being told she was desperately needed _now_ at a meeting, she was actually able to attend one. She found herself next to Head Boy Justin Finch-Fletchley, all of the house prefects packed uncomfortably in the one miniscule room they could use.

"Uh-Hmm…" Hermione cleared her throat loudly. Everyone stopped talking to each other and turned their attention towards her. "I would like to know the subject of this meeting that I was _demanded_ to attend." She arched an eyebrow with a no-nonsense air.

"Well," a timid Slytherin replied hastily, "mostly everything. See, since the return of You-Know-Who, everyone's parents are talking about more security measures; some even demand that Hogwarts be closed. On the other side, the Headmistress would like a ball in honor of Dumbledore."

"That's _Headmaster_ Dumbledore to you!" Terry Boot barked as he leaned back in his chair. The Slytherins scowled in his direction.

"What does it bloody well matter?" Justin demanded, slamming a fist on the table. The abrupt move startled Terry, making him and his chair lose balance and fall to the ground.

"Oh, sorry Terry," the Hufflepuff apologized. He turned back toward the group and continued, his tone serious. "Albus Dumbledore kept this school open for us! We can't just bloody well let our stupid parents ruin what he sacrificed his life for! There are things that made him special, and being able to understand us is one thing he could do that not many people could!"

"You-Know-Who can understand snakes," a fifth year Slytherin proclaimed. "Guess that makes him special, too."

"Professor Dumbledore was a Headmaster, not a damn parselmouth!" another scowling Ravenclaw shouted. Those around him agreed while the Slytherins huffed and felt their faces turn red.

"Enough!" Hermione cried over the group. They once again quieted and turned to her, each receiving a glare in turn. "First, there is nothing we can do about security ourselves besides doubling our routines, though I question whether or not you want to stay up pass midnight to patrol corridors. But even so, not many of us have experience when it comes to facing dark wizards. I have a bit of experience, but even I do not pretend to know everything there is to know about dueling, so let us leave the security to our elders. I will make sure Justin and I are present when they discuss it in their next meeting."

She paused to allow that dictate to sink in before turning to the other commanding subject. "So, what sort of ball does Professor McGonagall have in mind?"

Before Terry Boot could remind her, a sly Gryffindor cut him off and explained in a bossy manner (a bit reminiscent of herself), "Professor McGonagall would like a Halloween Ball since Dumbledore's favorite holiday was Halloween. She did say he liked Christmas just as much, despite the fact that he never got what he wanted."

Quiet laughter spread through the room; everyone recalled well their old Headmaster's odd – er, _unique_ – behavior. Hermione felt a wide grin form on her face, her mind drifting to more pleasant times. It was a moment before she realized that Justin was talking to everyone.

"-And I would also like a group of artistic prefects to help paint the scenery," he informed them. Hermione had to control her sudden inclinations of giggles once she spotted Ron already nodding off. Justin's talks were more like Binns's lectures, and half as exciting. "And another group to do double shifts to cover those helping decorate. We won't need many of you since most of the decorating will be done by the professors…"

* * *

"Oho!" Seamus cried cockily three weeks before the ball was supposed to take place. At this, he turned around and began eyeing the groups of girls in the Gryffindor common room. "Halloween Ball everyone!" 

Everyone turned their heads to him, staring with expressions of amusement as he continued with open arms. "And don't worry ladies; Seamus is all free to _entertain!_" But, _of course._

As the older girls (like Parvati) rolled their eyes and continued to read _Witch Weekly_, the younger girls either eyed Seamus with interest or blushed and buried themselves deeper in their homework assignments.

Hermione watched while Harry joyfully tripped Seamus, the latter having headed toward the boys' dormitories to 'freshen up for the lovely young women.' She chuckled to herself, thinking that Ron would like to get in on the 'Seamus-Offensive' as well. But as she quickly scanned the room, Hermione noticed that Ron wasn't around. Come to think of it, he wasn't present last night either. But before she could get into a serious tizzy as to what she might or might not have done to cause his absence, she consciously chose to dismiss it, instead joining in with Ginny in laughing over Seamus's stupidity.

"Hey, Hermione," Neville greeted cheerfully, his small smile sincere and earnest. Hermione returned his greeting and charmed a chair to appear right beside her. Neville sat down. "Thanks, but I can't stay long, I need to find Ron. He said he'd get Parvati Patel to go to the Halloween ball with me, but I can't find him. Have you seen him?"

"No, Neville, sorry," she replied, feeling a bit angry with her boyfriend for disappearing on her.

"Oh. Then have you seen Lavender?" he inquired. She shifted her eyes from her essay to her friend's round red face.

"No, sorry," she repeated sympathetically as she patted his arm and gave him a reassuring smile. "She might be in the Astrology Tower with Professor Trelawney. I don't know if you want to go all the way there, but it might be a start…"

"Thanks Hermione," Neville called to her happily as he turned to do just that. Unfortunately, he got only a few strides in before tripping over Seamus' body lying in the middle of the floor. He refused to move until Harry apologized, picked him up, and became his personal errand boy.

Hermione shook her head in wry amusement, knowing these boys would one day become fathers of the next generation. It was an unnerving thought. She mentally shook her head clear and continued her essay, ignoring Ginny's and Harry's nervous glances at each other. Or, at least she_ tried_ to ignore them. She groaned and wished the two would stop being so childish around each other and just settle whatever was making them act so weird.

Just as her thoughts were running amuck yet again, Hermione sensed someone sit next to her and slowly rub her back in a comforting manner. She tensed, ready to verbally lash out at whomever had the audacity to touch her in such a way.

As she turned her head to growl, she realized that no one was there.

* * *

Time was slowly slipping away yet again, and Hermione found it was only to two days till the ball. Not only was she so far dateless, but she had had to decline several offers on the basis of having a boyfriend. Of course, that was assuming said boyfriend was going to ask her. 

The pressure of the ball and Justin's annoying her every five minutes leeched her strength, making it impossible to manage the scolding Ron deserved for torturing her so. She was just about to go to Ginny for advice when Ron approached her, his smile forced and his eyes filled with the same look she had seen many times before.

"Hey," he greeted her with fake warmth. She tried to smile back, and by the look of relief that crossed his face, she must be doing a better job of hiding her loneliness and rejection. The same rejection he seemed to have forced upon on her himself.

"Hi," she replied, wrapping her arms around her body and looking towards the window at the pouring rain. He uncomfortably adjusted the bag on his shoulder, reminding Hermione of the first time he had asked her on a date. But this time she wasn't particularly happy with him. Nor was she joyful, for instead of acting on his feelings for her, he seemed to be forcing himself to talk to her now out of a sense of obligation.

"So…about that Halloween Ball?" he said with a nervous laugh. She wondered if Ginny or Harry had made him stop procrastinating in asking her.

"Yeah; do you have a date?" she inquired, feeling quite odd asking her _boyfriend _if he had a date to a social event. And the feeling, in her opinion, wasn't a very comforting one.

"Uh…no, do you?"

"No."

"So, you want to go with me?"

"Sure."

"Right…so I'll see you later then…"

At this, he turned on his heel and left her standing by herself, feeling more like he had openly rejected than ask her to the ball. She had thought the ball would be another great way to get to know Ron, to spend some 'couple' time together. But perhaps not. She sighed. This dating thing was turning out to be a lot harder than she thought.

* * *

Whoop! 

Anyway, **questions, concerns, comments?** you know how to contact me, youlovely readers!

My LJ is being retarded so I'm not sure when I'll put stuff on it.

And, this chapter is just a warm-up for the next one!

And a huge thanks to **R. J. Lupin's Kat **for everything! She's the best in the entire galaxy, so when you review, you can thank her for being able to read this. I'll tell her, I promise! You can check out my newest story** The Misplaced Ones** that she helped me with, too.

Review, please! I would truely and greatfully appreciate it very dearly:)

(P.S. just so you all know, I probably spelt something or two wrong.)


	8. Chapter 8: Halloween Monsters

Yeah, I know this story's late and it's not Thursday, but...yeah.

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**Disclaimer - **I do not own Harry Potter and Co. 

**Dedication-** To truimph of overcoming obstacles that seem endless and too large to defeat, and to the young man who uses not enough chap-stick.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of her bathroom mirror, her bushy hair wild and a bit unkempt. It matched perfectly with her costume – a rag doll with a dress created from roughly sewn-together rags, and magical stitch marks all over the portions of her body left visible.

Ron, of course, was going as a generic professional Quidditch player. He borrowed Harry's Firebolt at the last minute so he wouldn't look "_stupid_.' Harry was going as a Greek god as he had previously claimed. But Ginny said he only was going as that because all he had to do was wrap a bed sheet around his body and stick olive branches in his untamed hair. Ginny herself was going as a devil, her crimson costume outshone only by her flaming red hair.

She wondered if Ron was going to avoid her throughout the ball. He'd been doing a good job of it for some time now, though she had no idea why. Had she unknowingly said something to him that had offended him? Was she annoying Ron like Ginny said, crowding him so that he only wanted his space?

Her train of thought was interrupted by an unceasing knock upon her door. The pounding stopped only as she opened it. There stood Ginny, her seeming painted body quite red.

"It's time to go!" Ginny cried. She was too cheerful, thought Hermione, as she inspected the younger girl's dazzling white smile and buoyant presence. Before she could comment, however, Ginny turned and bounded down the stairs. "Wow, Hermione, you look great," Hermione mumbled to herself, half sarcastically, half hurt, as she followed. "Ron'll love it; he's lucky to have you for a girlfriend." She snorted at herself at her last line; she was beginning to feel like a fifth wheel where their little group was concerned, though she wasn't quite sure why.

She located Ron, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world, talking to an over-excited Seamus in a butler outfit. She quickly walked over to her boyfriend and mentally critiqued his blue and orange Quidditch outfit, Harry's racing broom in his hand.

"Hello Hermione; my you're looking lovely this evening!" Seamus greeted with flair. She blushed and took her place beside Ron. Her boyfriend seemed to tense up at his fellow Gryffindor's remark. Hermione wondered at Ron's reaction. Was he jealous? Surely not. That would require he actually took notice of her himself.

Seamus continued, an appraising eye flicking between the two. "A rag doll and a Quidditch player! What an odd couple!"

Sideway glances seemed to have abounded at this comment, making Hermione feel like she had '_Dunderhead_' written across her forehead and back. No one appeared to want to openly gawk, however, but the moment still seemed suspended. Ron shifted nervously from foot to foot and coughed; Seamus spotted one of Ginny's friends dressed as a maid and went off to flirt.

"Well, we should start heading down," Ron suggested. Hermione nodded and followed him out of the Gryffindor common room, heading toward the Great Hall.

On the way to the center of the social event, Hermione decided to give a gift to Professor Flitwick for making the amazing decorations for the party. Within the main floor corridors and the Great Hall were hundreds of bats hanging from the ceilings or flying around, scaring some second years. The suits of armor randomly moved about, their oil-neglected limbs squeaking with every flinch. Hagrid had provided his home-grown great pumpkins, lining the halls with their overgrown vines mysteriously teaming up with each other in a mischievous attempt to trip passers-by. There were black iron gates that were charmed to protect the pumpkins inside in case some ill-tempered student vowed revenge. Silky black curtains hung in the middle of some corridors so the castle ghosts could hide behind them, scaring the students with the art of surprise. Then there were great big orbs hanging ominously in the air, lighting the Great Hall. Hermione looked at them closely, only to discover they were full moons.

She was immediately reminded of Remus Lupin. She wondered how he was doing. She recalled how Professor Eucken told her that Professor Lupin had given her the most compliments so far. Her spine tingled at the remembrance of it, but she pushed it out of her mind as Ron led her to small tables that lined the walls, replacing the House and Head tables.

They sat down next to each other, watching more and more students enter the room 'oohing' and 'awing' at the dazzling display of decorations. While Hermione thanked countless people for their lovely compliments, Ron was wiggling his foot impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest, and hitting her accidentally with Harry's broom.

"Ouch!" she cried for the seventh time that evening, while wishing Ron would stop being so obvious in his annoyance and discomfort. She turned to him, agitated. "If you don't want to be here, then leave! No one's forcing you to stay!"

"It's not that," he murmured before giving the excuse of getting some punch for them and leaving. While she waited for Ron, she scanned the room, vaguely wondering if she really wanted to be here herself. Ron was obviously put out, and she didn't fancy spending her evening getting cross with him.

After what felt like more than five minutes, she noticed Luna, dressed as her father's _Quibbler _magazine with the picture of Harry from his fifth year on it. With her were Ginny and Neville, the latter in an outfit of what seemed to be a Muggle reporter, with labels of _Quibbler _all about it.

"Hermione!" Ginny greeted enthusiastically as the three joined her at the small table. "Everything's _fantastic!_ I can't even begin to tell you how many people I heard compliment the decorations. You've really outdone yourself this time."

"Oh, thanks," Hermione replied lamely. She felt a bit embarrassed and sheepish since she wasn't the _only _person to put their heart and soul into the ball. "Well, you can also tell Justin because this would never have gotten done if it wasn't for him."

Before Ginny could reply, one of the enchanted metal suits of armor (its rusty joints heralding its arrival) approached their table, bearing a basket full of candy. Hermione thanked it politely over the noise of the screeching metal. Luna tucked into the candy immediately while Neville cautiously took a sweet. Ginny also helped herself and Hermione hesitantly followed suit after everyone insisted it was all very good.

Once they had finished the next two baskets full of what seemed to be more candy than Honeyduke's could offer in a year, Hermione found herself feeling very alive and beautiful. She accepted Neville's offer to a dance and let her proverbial hair down as he twirled her around floor.

As she spun around, the lights became a circular blur. When she finally stopped, it was only to see a person clad purely in black dancing with her. Not knowing who it was but not wanting to ruin the perfect moment (for it might have been Ron in a different costume), Hermione gave the person a wide smile. He – she supposed it was a male due to such a muscular frame – placed his large hands upon her shoulder and waist, squeezing a bit too hard for her taste. But she didn't flinch, for the pain wasn't too unbearable. However, the thought of this mysterious guy made her spine and stomach tingle before he turned her around once more.

Right when she threw this masked man another amazing smile, he pulled her slim frame even closer towards him, making her blush. She wondered if he knew she had a boyfriend.

'_A boyfriend who seems to have disappeared right now_,' she thought to herself in a bossy-know-it-all voice. '_Of course,_ _Ron doesn't know what Ron doesn't know…_' She smirked to herself. She was going to enjoy the evening, regardless.

She felt her face continue to burn as he twirled her around again, making her feel light and free for the first time in a long while. Then his hand slid from her shoulder, coming to rest on her flaming cheek smeared with make-up. He didn't seem to mind her disarray as his calloused hands and rough fingernails ran along her silky face.

While her feet glided along the dance floor with his, she felt his hand go from her third-degree burning cheeks to the side of her head, where his long fingers ran through her unruly hair. Once again he didn't seem to mind as his fingers were miraculously able to run through her hair. He then moved to the back of her neck, making her body twitch at the contact.

Her head screamed about everything that could go wrong since she _was _in public after all. Ron could walk in at any moment. But her body didn't mind the simple contact she was receiving here and now – the same simple contact her boyfriend had been neglecting. Before she knew it, she was twirled around once more, the lights dancing across her eyes. She gasped as she was met with a pair of bright yellow eyes, the kind one would recall if they'd ever seen them before. But she hadn't.

Before she could utter another sound, he spun her faster until leaving her to fall ungracefully to the dance floor. Alone.

She held still for a few moments to steady her dizzy vision; her heavy head growing heavier by the second. Once she found equilibrium, she frantically scrambled to her feet, barely avoiding being trampled there in the middle of the dance floor. She gazed about to see if her mysterious Astaire was still in the Great Hall. No one seemed even close to resembling him. Was he just hiding from her?

Just as she launched into an obsessive search for him, she ran smack dab into someone else.

She opened her mouth to apologize when she was steadied by strong hands, hands with a grip that wouldn't let her fall once again to the ground. Her eyes opened to see Professor Eucken, dressed in a large black cape, ancient Victorian clothes and fake Vampire teeth. Sanguini he was not.

He gave her a wide smile to show off his pointed teeth, disappointing Hermione that it wasn't her mystery dancer from only moments before.

She blushed at the mere centimeters their bodies were apart. She brought her line of vision up from his broad chest to his face, only to see him staring at her in such a manner as she had never seen a boy, or man in this case, do. His eyes were twinkling brightly in a way that painfully reminded her of Albus Dumbledore. His body was frozen stiff like a statue; his face held the look. Upon realization of the look's intent, her heart seemed to seize up within her chest and her breath caught in her throat. It was a look, outrageously enough, of utter desire.

Before she could wriggle free from his grasp, he let her go, backed away slowly, and bowed down. Startled, she was trying desperately not to sprint out the Great Hall screaming, "_Pervert!_" Instead, she merely stood rooted to the spot, motionless.

He gave her an ostentatious smile before straightening, explaining, "I'm sorry my dear Head Girl; I didn't mean to startle you. I was just about to ask you to dance with me."

Hermione quickly looked around the room to see the people around dancing, continuing like they didn't see them. She could not locate a plausible excuse to prevent her from having to dance with her now frightening teacher.

She bit her lower lip and nodded her head in acceptance, quietly adding, "I'll dance with you for just one song."

Suddenly an impulse came upon her to just forget Eucken and run out of the Hall to the safety of her own rooms. As it quickly passed through her, she felt pure rage toward him for trying to _dance_ with her! She was his _student _for bloody hell's sake, not his damn _concubine!_ Who did he think he was, trying to steal another man's woman?

'_Just like his father!_' she thought angrily before realizing she didn't know where that specific thought came from. She only knew he traveled the world, grew up over his father's bookshop, and quit school at a young age; she didn't even _know_ his bloody father!

Before she could wonder how that thought had come upon her, he relieved her anxiety somewhat by making the first move; he twirled her around joyfully. The move made his cape swirl around like that of Professor Snape's, strangely enough. Her train of thought was cut off abruptly when she realized if she didn't pay attention, her professor was likely to drag her across the dance floor.

She quickly caught up to his fast pace as he spun her around, passing all the other couples dancing slowly, their bodies pressed closely together. He beamed upon noticing her effort to make their dance as enjoyable as possible. She could tell he thought she was enjoying this, and the thought made her want to flinch, release his strong grip, and crawl to… well, it didn't really matter.

As the song finally ended and the band was discussing their next song, she patiently waited for him to let her go. Everyone else had stopped dancing and were wandering back to the tables or the refreshment bar. He began to frantically search the room, biting his lower lip with his pseudo fangs. Puzzled, Hermione glanced about the room herself. He may have been searching for someone, but she was searching for an escape.

She felt Parvati Patil and Terry Boot pass by them, her in a princess costume and he, grudgingly, in a prince's outfit, before the music once again began. Before she knew it, Eucken quickly grabbed a startled Parvati, apologized to a now bloodthirsty Terry, and began to dance with her. She giggled delightedly at dancing with her fancy. Hermione, sensing her freedom, was more than happy to leave the dance floor. She could feel Terry Boot's eyes following her, possibly wondering if he could use her as revenge for Professor Eucken's actions. She thought not.

Hermione didn't feel too keen about dancing anymore or continuing to carry the night out like Ginny, who was currently dancing on tabletops of some Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. Instead she made her way out the Hall, anger and exhaustion flowing through her veins. She could just hear the cries and groans and Parvati screech, "_Professor Eucken!_" She ignored it all, as it merely made her head throb.

As she fled along the corridors, she felt like someone had taken her hand and began to lead her away from the stifling party. She was guided past the pumpkins – their protective charms apparently broken and some of their shells smashed –, past the black curtains where she could hear the ghosts in conversation, and past the screeching bats darting hither and to. She was pulled along in a heightened gait, and as the familiar portraits and stairways passed, she felt her mind blurring.

She reached her rooms with a dazed and weary sigh, miraculously not falling asleep in the middle of a hallway from both physical and emotional exhaustion. Her eyes drifted nearly closed, leaving only distorted slits through which to take in her surroundings. She heard the door close and reasoned lazily in her head that it was the wind. Only vaguely aware of herself, she felt her outfit undo itself, slip from her shoulders and pool to her feet. Then dead cold hands unfastened her undergarments, leaving her standing in the middle of her room, naked with only her icy hands to warm and cover herself.

A few moments passed before she felt hot breath reach her neck and freezing hands rest upon her hips. The fine hairs on her body stood on end and her stomach jumped with excitement. Before her mind's fog could clear to see if it was Ron who was gracing her as a delicate piece of china, she felt the hands depart, leaving the coldness on her as though trying to leave an impression upon her skin.

Then the hands returned, but this time in lifting her arms up, causing her head to droop. She wanted so badly to collapse into her warm and inviting bed. Soft, cool silk caressed her arms and floated down her whole body. It registered that she was wearing the nightgown her mother had given her. She had been forced to stow it away out of the embarrassment of her mother buying her '_womanly_' things. But here it was, enveloping her in its feminine beauty.

The cold hands returned yet again, lightly adjusting her gown or touching her in the most inappropriate places. She shivered as fingers brushed delicately against her chest and a palm pressed softly even further down her body, quickly building a heat while a whimper escaped her lips. Distantly she wondered just what was going on with her. Ron had _never,_ _ever _touched her like this, and it made her wonder if this was actually Ron wanting to take things a step further in the pretense of kindly helping her to her room.

The hand occupying her chest redirected itself, sliding down her arm to her ring. There it entwined long thin fingers with hers. She felt hot breath on her ear, making her shiver. The other hand wrapped about her stomach such that the robed limb lightly touched her every time she breathed.

"_I now trust you_," a deep voice softly whispered, its tenderness drawing even more shivers to run down her spine in both fear and lust. She was desperate to do anything for more of the comfort and attention this person was giving her. She vaguely did not care exactly who it was at the moment. Instead, a feeling of deep compassion and comfort ran through her in her foggy state as she felt herself lowered onto her bed.

Once again Hermione tried desperately to identify who was treating her like she was the most valuable piece of life in existence. And above all, like a woman.

But her attention altered after noticing the person did not follow her down onto the bed. She was about to protest and pull him down with her, all the while cursing Ron more than Voldemort cursed his Death Eaters, when the admirer disappeared, leaving her quite alone.

She felt his vanished presence, certain of his absence. She felt used as she was left to a dark room with absolutely nothing to comfort her in her absolute solitude. She had only Ms. Bubbles, her old doll who took the form of a tropical blue fish. But Ms. Bubbles wasn't here; she was locked away in a box in her parent's attic, a long and lonely way away.

Desolate, she hugged the silk sheets tightly to her and let tears leak from her tightly shut eyes to her pursed mouth, leaving a salty taste upon her lips. Only upon slipping into unconsciousness did she find relief.

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Okay, I know not many will like this chapter, but y'know...to me it _had _to happen.

Things will change, this story's **not** going to be HG/OC. It is HG/RL. Our favorite werewolf will come at Chapter 11.

A copy of this can be found at my lj along with clues and etc.

Review! Don't make me press that button for you!


	9. Chapter 9: A Twisted Hide and Seek Game

**WARNING: **Insane!Parvati in this chapter! This is due to the "shadow" and his powers. (He can control people and can get into their minds, you get the drift?) This will basically also explain everyone else as well. Thought I'd let you know!

To **Kimi** since I'm horrible and do not reply to your reviews - Thanks! Yes, Hermione was too tired to think before. She will pretty much dismiss the "shadows" intentions of kindness as nothing like she's been doing...until Chapter 13, I suppose. :)

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**Disclaimer - **Do I honestly need to repeat this? I. Do. Not. Own. Harry. Potter. And. Company. 

**Dedication -** To idiotic morons who have mouths that deem too big for their face, and to the love of my life that helps me through harsh and frustrating times: food.

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It was now November and the air was becoming chillier, occasional cold gusts of wind aggravating the Quidditch players. Fallen, multicolored leaves whipped through the wind, winding up under the students' shoes as they started out on their monthly Hogsmeade journey. It surprised many that the special privilege would still be open to the students. 

After concluding that the Halloween ball (or more precisely, the post-ball performance) was going to haunt her for the rest of her life, Hermione decided to stop hiding in her Head Girl's private room and return to the world. She needed to stop crying over her wild and hyper imagination. Just because she had made up the fantasy that someone had helped her into her rooms, undressed her, and touched her in the most intimate places didn't mean it had actually happened. She needed to get past it and return to normal life.

Hermione made her way to the Great Hall where the hundreds seated were excitedly talking about the upcoming Quidditch game. She rolled her brown eyes. '_How could anyone be so obsessed with such a brutal sport? There's no point to it, no educational value whatsoever. It doesn't teach you a foreign language, it doesn't teach you how to defend yourself, it doesn't…_'

But as she sat down and actually listened outside her own head, she didn't hear the words 'Gryffindor' or 'Hufflepuff' escape anyone's mouth.

"Did you hear?" Ginny asked noisily, her glossed pinks lips smirking as her body leaned over the table. Hermione raised an eyebrow as if daring her to continue with the conversation. "Well, if you don't know already, I heard Professor Eucken was in a duel, and not just a Wizarding duel, a Muggle _fist fight!_"

"Oh, dear!" Hermione's cry was one of shock, her hand immediately going to her 'o'-shaped mouth.

"I also heard it was because of a _girl_," Ginny continued, emphasizing the innuendo that the professor actually had a life outside the classroom. This time Hermione leaned over the table herself to hear what else her fellow Gryffindor had to say. "It seems our dear professor was trying to steal some boy's _girlfriend._

"Everyone thinks it's Parvati Patil," Ginny explained. Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted, quickly glancing to be sure said girl wasn't around to witness it. "I know, but she's such a tart for spreading rumors of her and Eucken having midnight affairs behind Terry's back. What a bloody fuck, I swear, and Terry's had enough; I heard he's going to dump her."

Hermione shot an eyebrow up in amused curiosity. It was enough encouragement for Ginny. She continued.

"I saw Eucken dance with Parvati. _Please. _But after, our dear professor seemed to be thrown back into a table, but no one saw who did it, though Terry confessed, saying he did it for his girlfriend. But he was on the other side of the room trying to make Parvati jealous with another girl! And like I said, it wasn't a spell.

"So…in conclusion… they're all a bunch of bloody fucks, really."

Hermione laughed at Ginny's account of the goings-on from the previous evening. Unable to hold it in any longer, Ginny followed suit.

With perfect timing, Parvati sat next to Hermione, the rumor-spreader's attention on the mirror in front of her and the reflection it held. Hermione saw Ginny give her a look in the corners of her eyes and, in order not to laugh, began helping herself to some food.

Justin Flinch-Fletchley ran over to Hermione with a look of utter importance while throwing smug looks to the nosy girls surrounding her.

"Good morning, Hermione," Justin greeted, cutting off Hermione's return greeting. "I have a request from Headmistress McGonagall." Yet again before Hermione could ask, Justin cut her off. "She would like you to help me help Professor Eucken to his rooms to rest."

When Parvati heard Eucken's name, she abandoned her attempts to drown in her own arrogance and latched herself onto Justin's robes, causing him to jump back in shock.

"What the bloody-?" he cried.

Parvati pleaded loudly, "_How's my Edmund?_ Will he live? I just knew that he shouldn't have tried to show his _affections for me_ out in public no matter how much he _desired_ me!"

"_Parvati!_" Hermione cried over the noise exiting the girl's lips. With force not truly necessary, the Head Girl pried the gossip-spreader off Justin. The latter looked like Voldemort had just asked him to be his boyfriend.

"Control yourself, woman!"

"_But I love him!_" Parvati continued loudly, causing everyone in the Great Hall turn to catch a glimpse of her. Only somewhat necessary this time, Hermione smacked her across the face to silence her.

A bit more composed, Parvati added, "I'm sorry, it's just that not hearing if my _lover_'s alright or not gets me a bit upset. If you don't mind, I'd like to visit him now..."

Before Hermione could understand what had just happened (and really, why she was actually _listening_ to the psychotic girl), Parvati fled the Great Hall in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Hermione was sure Professor Eucken would beg Madam Pomfrey to not allow Parvati in.

"Madam Pomfrey will never allow that psycho in," Justin said as if reading her mind. He sighed, shook his head and put his hands on his hips. Then he turned and grabbed a blueberry muffin off Ginny's plate. "See you later Ginny. Hermione and I have some business to attend to if you don't mind."

"No, no, I don't," Ginny replied truthfully. She ran her hands through her shining red hair and flipped it without enthusiasm, quickly catching Potter's eye. "You can handle Ms. I've-Gone-Insane-Over-A-Handsome-Teacher; I have a Transfiguration essay to complete."

"Thanks," Hermione added sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. She and Justin grudgingly left the Great Hall as it continued to fill with hushed, excited whispers.

On the way out they heard the cry of one Harry Potter as he fell off of the long bench while leaning too far to catch more glimpses of Ginny. Hermione sighed. She wanted to smash her head against the wall over and over again. This was the "Chosen One"? Boy, were they in trouble.

Their pace slow from her short legs and his sluggish walk, they continued up to the Hospital Wing. By the closed doors Parvati was having a heated debate with a red Professor Sprout. The professor looked to be on the verge of slapping the girl back to her senses.

"Ms. Patil, you are not allowed in here!" the Professor protested, her arms fiercely crossing into an 'x' then back out to her sides in an attempt to prevent the girl entrance. Parvati huffed in outrage and clenched her fists.

"I will not be pushed around!" she yelled, pointing at the professor as if the quick turn of events was her fault. Sensing trouble, Justin quickly raced towards the two, pushing Parvati away from the professor.

"Let me go!" she ranted.

"Damn it Parvati, get a grip!" Justin hissed as he shook her. Turning to the professor, he explained, "The Headmistress wants only _Hermione and me_ to go in."

Hermione walked passed them with Parvati snarling, "_How dare you Flinch-Fletchley!_" She pushed through the Hospital Wing doors, ignoring everyone, and closed them with an auditory glimpse of such colorful words Hermione didn't even know existed.

"Miss Granger, thank goodness you're alright!" Professor McGonagall cried. She grabbed the front of Hermione's blouse and pulled her face to face. McGonagall shook her a number of times before her shakes turned into convulsions of weeping. Hermione unclenched the professor's hands from her blouse and gently led her to a nearby straight-backed chair.

Hermione, confused at McGonagall's bizarre reaction, swiftly went toward the only bed that had curtains drawn around it. She had to dodge Madam Pomfrey collapsing into an empty bed, angry sobs escaping her throat. This was getting very strange, indeed.

With a sickening fear and a racing heartbeat, the brunette pulled back the curtains. She dearly hoped Eucken was in better health than before. It seemed somebody needed to be.

There, tucked neatly into the white bed, lay Professor Eucken who looked more dead than merely sleeping. Fearing the worst, she reached out and shook her professor. She tried to ignore the purple and blue bruising around one of his eyes and the large, deep slash mark blatant against the smooth skin of his cheek.

His dark eyes shot open, and he gasped out a breath he seemed to have been denied for quite some time. Hermione sighed in relief and a warm smile stretched across her face.

"W-What?" he began stupidly. His eyes rose to her face. Instantly, he groaned deeply and rolled away from her, his large hands covering his face. Her smile faltered as the feeling of deep rejection from last night returned to her.

Someone's soft and tender hands clamped onto her shoulder, startling her from her deep thoughts. She turned to see Madam Pomfrey's stern face.

"What are you doing in here Miss Granger?" the witch demanded in a booming voice. The nurse's eyes suddenly grew wide and her fingers twitched and grasped at Hermione's flesh in physical threat.

"I'm Head Girl," Hermione explained, pointing out the obvious. It only seemed to insult the nurse more, though. She moved to protect her patient like a possessive mother protecting her newborn. Hermione hastily added, "Professor Sprout let me in; I'm here with Justin to take Professor Eucken back to his rooms."

"Who told you this?" McGonagall inquired as she appeared by the other woman's side. This time she looked confident, superior Headmistress she was. As if natural reaction, Hermione took a step away from the women and began wishing she were in the privacy of her peaceful rooms.

"Justin told me that you gave him orders," Hermione explained hesitantly. Something didn't seem right.

Suddenly a hoarse cry came from the professor's parched, bloody lips. "I didn't make them come! _They came to me!_ I am not my father! _LEAVE ME ALONE! _I would never do that! Don't! Leave her out of this! _Don't hurt them! _They're the only ones who _care!_"

Hermione felt her eyes water at the display in front of her. From nowhere a chill ran down her slouching back and a malicious, humored laughter flowed into her ears. She cried out and clutched her professor, trying to block out the thoughts she knew weren't hers.

A stunned silence filled the room as her professor grasped her to him, his head nestled into her chest. She ignored his intimate position and began to rock him back and forth comfortingly.

"Quickly, help him up," McGonagall ushered in a whispered, hoarse voice. She sounded as if she was battling something deep within her soul.

Hermione gave her a strange look before, again baffled at the Headmistress' odd behavior. Just as she was mentally calculating all the spells or ailments that could have befallen the professor, Madam Pomfrey lurched at them, toppling Hermione and Eucken over the bed with cries of shock.

Professor Eucken lay on top of her, shaking his mangy hair like a wet dog. They both turned to Madam Pomfrey for explanation when she cut them off, yelling, "_Go now!_"

Her professor, who seemed to have gotten a grip on himself, jumped up. Abruptly he pulled Hermione up to him, and without letting go, began to run out of the Hospital Wing. With his iron grip, Hermione was forced to follow.

Out the doors they brokenly ran. They passed Sprout, Justin and Parvati; the group wore drowsy but angry expressions, tinged with muffled surprise at the escape. There was no time to explain now, if she even _had_ an explanation, Hermione thought.

The odd couple fled down the deserted corridors, many of which Hermione didn't even know existed. Unfortunately, people she didn't dare reveal trailed behind. Once she and the professor made their way down one more mysterious and dark hallway, he abruptly shoved her into a large tapestry of a menacing black raven, wings spread. He followed her into the hiding place, squishing both of them into the narrow recess.

Six feet stormed passed their hiding place. Hermione tried not to breathe too loudly, but failed. She was too close for comfort to him. Just as she was about to burst from the insanity of it all and the deprivation of oxygen, Professor Eucken dragged her out from behind the tapestry and forced her tear-streaked face to look at him.

"Give it to me!" he demanded angrily while shaking her. She whimpered and tried to loosen his painful grip on her. "Give it!"

He was considerably stronger than her, and wrenched her left wrist to him with intent to pull the yellow ring from her finger.

"No!" she cried out desperately, smacking his hand away. She began wrestling with his hand as it continued its exasperating mission. Damn it; it was her ring, not his!

"Give it to me!"

"Step the bloody hell off!"

"_Hand it over, you stupid whore!_"

Shocked and appalled, she slapped his bruised and battered cheek angrily, giving him the clear shot to grab the eerily, brightly glowing ring. Seizing the chance her confusion enabled, he secured the ring and flung it as far as he could. Its graceful arc reached its pinnacle somewhere over the nearest staircase, then descended in freefall for quite sometime.

Voices began to grow louder, and he quickly dragged her into a room and shut the door. He locked the door with both Muggle and magical methods. Hermione began to wonder whether or not he was really mentally ill. Perhaps she was just dreaming up this entire morning with her distressed mind in overdrive. She glanced at his almost maniacal expression. Perhaps not.

Just as he turned to her, relief spreading over his handsome and wounded face, she felt anger seep back into her veins. Her hand took control of itself and slapped him clear across the face for the second time that day, only this time sending him crashing into the wall.

This time, however, he retaliated. Steadying himself, he lunged and tackled her, shoving her into the wall. Desperately she squirmed, determined to make sure he couldn't gain total control of the situation like he had last time.

Hermione summoned all the courage, anger, hate, and betrayal she possibly could and punched her professor in his stomach. He gasped out in pain and fell to the floor on all fours. His gasps for air quickly changed to coughs full of blood, and Hermione grew concerned and regretful.

Inside she whined at not knowing what to do. Though unsure it was the right course, Hermione made up her mind. With difficulty, for he _was_ heavy, she helped him to his feet, and lit up the room with a wave of her wand. To her amazement, she realized they were in a bedroom of some kind. He must have led her all around the area of the teachers' quarters. No wonder she didn't know where she was!

Concluding they were in _his_ bedroom, she half-dragged him to the large bed where he clutched his stomach, crying out in pain. She must have hit a previous wound in her tirade, for she certainly hadn't punched him _that_ hard. She really needed to find an adult for help, but that would have to wait; he needed attention now, and she wasn't sure she trusted anyone's behavior at present.

She turned to search the room for any sort of medical necessities. Surprisingly, she found everything she needed.

She didn't know any magical spells that would remove his clothing; actually, she was pretty sure it was impossible. But she also knew he wasn't going to cooperate with her after her previous actions.

Out of quick and somewhat decisive planning, she grabbed his shirt and tore it open. She smacked his hands away from his stomach; they seemed to want to attach themselves to his skin.

Hermione gasped at the large, deep slashes on his stomach. Snapping out of her shock, she quickly went to work healing his wounds. It wasn't long before he fell asleep on her, or rather perhaps fell unconscious. She bit her lower lip, wondering just what had happened to him.

Terry Boot wasn't the sort to know nasty and particularly foul curses, nor would ever harm a professor out of jealously, though she knew he probably wanted to do so. The only way this wound could have been inflicted would be by very Dark magic or a very dangerous magical creature. If even Madam Pomfrey couldn't mend him, it was very Dark indeed.

Her dysfunctional mind could only recall a single coherent thought at the moment: '_What is going on, and what have I done?_'

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The end of Chapter 9! (I told you thinks would get complicated!) But Chapter 10's even more insane, I don't know about you, but I can't wait!

And a sorry goes out to my dear readers. This chapter seemed rushed, I don't know about you...but whatever:)

Yeah, there's no clues in my livejournal. I'm just too tired and no one seems to read those things anyway. If you truely want them, please let me know or I won't continue to do that anymore. It's a wasteful amount of time to make if no one reads them. You can just continue to ask questions in reviews, that would be nice and helpful to me.

This means you have to review...(Encouragement would be nice, too.)

So** review** please!

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	10. Chapter 10: Revelations

Thanks to **Kimi **(I preferrably would like to say that Ron died, but it's a mystery, I can't tell you!) and **Sleeping Dragons Die**! You guys are the best:)

**WARNING**: mention of rape, torture, etc. And I must warn you that you might not like Eucken as much after this.

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**Dedication - **To the man who helped me clarify why I don't like assholes (like him), and to the friends that I don't know too well.

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Hermione woke up to find that she was in a familiar place: her room. 

'_How did I get here?_' she thought to herself as she untangled from the silk sheets of her large bed and _tried_ to walk to the bathroom. Her bladder demanded relief. Only partway there, though, she collapsed onto the floor, a whimper escaping her dry lips.

Her hands desperately searched around but couldn't find anything to hoist her frail body up. It was as if all of her energy had been drained from her body.

Deciding she would have to wait and recoup her energy for another go at the bathroom or her wand, Hermione began to run through the list of things that could have immobilized her or tire her body to the point of exhaustion.

A simple Draft of Sleep would have knocked her out for at least a few hours. Hermione looked towards a window to see the sun shining. The shadows in her room announced that she had slept for over a _day!_

She made another attempt to get up, this time succeeding. Her self-congratulations were premature, as she toppled onto her bed with a cry of surprise. She started to slide off, but in a valiant effort, grasped wildly at the blankets. Problem was, she wasn't quite strong enough to hold on.

Hermione fell back onto the floor with a _thud_. She figured that the longer she let her drugged muscles rest, the more time she would have to get to her wand without any problems.

Hermione waited patiently face up on the floor. With nothing better to do, she figured that reciting the Goblin Wars would pass the time thoroughly enough. Not to mention it would prove to herself how much she actually absorbed from her History of Magic classes.

After what felt like forever, she glanced at her watch, concluding that she had been on the ground for over twenty abominably slow minutes. Now was as good a time to try again as any, she supposed.

Slowly and steadily, she stood up. She lunged toward her side table before her body had a chance to collapse short-goaled. There she found her wand, neatly placed by her clock. She quickly grabbed it and muttered an incantation. Immediately her weary state disappeared, leaving her energetic and in control of herself.

Now able to stand without assistance of furniture, Hermione looked around. Next to her bedside clock and a few photos, gleaming in the pleasant morning's shining light, was the ring Professor Eucken had thrown far away from them the previous day. She picked the ring up as it gleamed ominously. Had Eucken drugged her? Then maybe placed her neatly into her rooms, and had given her the ring back out of guilt?

Should she put it on? Euken had been adamantly against it. She shivered as a thought came up into her head, '_Why, of course! Ron gave it to me, why _wouldn't _I wear it?_'

Making up her mind, Hermione easily slipped the yellow ring onto her hand and felt a feeling of utter relief flood through her. As she purred in utter bliss, she decided to prepare for a full day. The weekend was almost up and she had wasted it sleeping! (Which was a shock for she had never done so before.)

After a quick, pleasant shower that eased her muscles, Hermione dressed and went back into her bedroom. She found her fireplace alit with orange and blue flames dancing above the wood and shreds of paper. She put it out, wondering all the while why it was lit. It was definitely too warm for a fire. She made a mental note to check with Dobby and the other House Elves to tell them not to start a fire in the morning for her until it was officially winter.

Once ready, Hermione went to the common room. The usually packed room was empty. Perhaps everyone was having a lie-in, or maybe already down at breakfast. Just the thought of food made her stomach grumble in approval.

Entering the Great Hall, Hermione sat down prepared to feast upon a golden croissant when Neville hesitantly came up to her. She sighed, noticing he did not take the seat beside her. He was standing stiff still, waiting patiently if not shyly. She turned around and gave him a warm smile. He visibly relaxed.

"Good morning Neville," she greeted cheerfully. "What can I do for you this fine morning?"

He gulped and looked at the ceiling as if trying to remember something before he looked back into her pleasant face.

"Professor Eucken wanted me to fetch you," he explained kindly. At the comment, she felt her stomach drop and a sudden dread smack her from behind. "He said you and Justin are scheduled to be at the next staff meeting to discuss the security measures."

"Oh!" Hermione cried in shock, forgetting all about the prefect meeting they had discussed with the others before. "Alright, then. I want to get this done and over with. Let me just grab a few things and then we can go."

Neville agreed and Hermione quickly gathered up some food from the heavily-laden table. She followed him out of the Great Hall, its chattering, noisy students falling quiet as they neared Professor Eucken's serene office.

Hermione and Neville munched on breakfast as they went. When they reached their destination, she thanked him for his help, shooed him away and went in alone. The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was dark and quiet. Eucken was furiously pacing; Justin was leaning pleasantly against the professor's desk.

"There you are, Hermione," Justin greeted a little too cheerfully. Professor Eucken stopped pacing to stare at the wall, his back to the two top students. "I was just discussing a few things with Professor Eucken here. I was afraid Neville would totally forget to bring you, I had to send him since we were discussing something important."

"Oh, Neville was most helpful," Hermione replied to try and change Justin's views of Neville. He seemed to think of Neville only as the boy who couldn't even remember to jump over the trick staircase. He really wasn't fair. "So, the staff meeting's today?"

"Yup, just learned of it this morning," Justin explained to her while giving Professor Eucken a side glance. The latter was still staring at the stone walls that separated his class from the next empty one. "I was lucky I had told him of our plans earlier and that I had a question on his essay or we would have had to wait for the next one."

While Hermione processed the words that escaped his lips, she wondered what was wrong with her professor. She held her gaze on the man himself until a polite cough interrupted her train of thoughts. Tracing the noise to Justin, she looked back at the Hufflepuff, who gave her a knowing smile. She blushed, then wondered why she did so. Justin glanced sideways at their professor before giving Hermione a sly smirk.

As though someone had set her robes on fire (like she had to Snape her first year), she felt her body jump in shock at Justin's implication. She gave a small squeal. She quickly turned around to admire the scenery from the window, hoping she wasn't acting obvious.

Instant rage began to burn within her. How dare he try to make her look like some stupid girl with a schoolgirl crush! She wasn't Parvati for bloody hell's sake! She had a boyfriend, thank you very much.

A plan began to form in her brain, one that included every male she knew ganging up on Justin and causing massive injury. _How plain dare him!_

But a part of her brain that seemed to have awoken from its restful slumber told her to _relax - _Justin was just teasing her. He wasn't actually taunting her and shouting around that their professor was her fancy; he was being, well…_Justin_.

When she turned around, Hermione's face was feeling a tad cooler. She walked up to Justin. The Head Boy seemed to be waiting for Professor Eucken to end his train of thoughts or whatever he was doing.

Once again Justin gave a polite, but sterner cough, causing Eucken to wheel around, a large grin plastered on his whiskery face. There were dark circles painted beneath his eyes. How much he had slept last night? Had he bothered to care for himself at all since she had left him in his room the other day?

Hermione shot Justin a questioning look as to when the latter was going to check on the well-being of Professor Eucken. Justin seemed to understand and gave her a look as if telling her he was currently looking into the matter.

"Let's go!" Professor Eucken declared a little too cheerfully and began to march proudly out of his classroom. Giving each other a fearful glance, the Head Boy and Girl closely followed him as if they were personal bodyguards.

Spectators watched them intently from afar. The gossiping girls began to giggle and squeal, reporting to one another that they had seen Hermione and Professor Eucken running towards his _bedroom_ after that incident in the Hospital Wing. Hermione rolled her eyes upon hearing one saying that Parvati was going to attack her when she was alone and not paying attention. But as they passed Parvati, the girl glared at Hermione angrily, clenching her fists. Hermione flinched. Wasn't that going a tad too far over a stupid little fancy?

Stepping into the Headmistress's office, they were met by nearly all the teachers Hogwarts had to offer, each seated around a large table in the middle of the room. Hermione took a seat next to Professor Eucken, Justin taking his other side. She gulped and her face went hot at the curious glances being thrown at her. It was as if the teachers were holding her responsible for making Professor Eucken look like he'd been beaten with an ugly stick.

Headmistresses McGonagall coughed loudly, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Hermione silently thanked the woman.

"We are here to discuss our security measures," McGonagall stated, "as requested by the student body." She seemed annoyed, reminding Hermione of someone being abruptly awakened with ice-cold water. "Well? Does anyone have anything to say?" No one said a word. The teachers began to sift through the piles of parchment in front of them. The silence hung in the air uncomfortably. Finally, Justin spoke up confidently.

"Yes, ma'am. We, meaning myself, the prefects and the Head Girl," he gave Hermione a '_You better not prove me otherwise_' look, "believe that something must be done. What will the parents say if we could protect the school even more and don't?"

"I understand what you're saying," McGonagall replied over the whispers of the faculty. "But, though some staff members may disagree, I feel there is no need to do so. There are countless charms that protect Hogwarts; there has been little advancement in protection charms since this school was built. As something useful is found, it is applied."

"Still!" Justin argued angrily, clenching his fists. He seemed to be restraining himself from banging the table. "Sirius Black had entered the castle undetected. So had dozens of Death Eaters. We need to do something! Who knows what other things could possibly slip through the charms and defenses?"

Professor Sprout nodded her head solemnly and turned to McGonagall. "You have to agree with him, Minerva. He has a point. We can't continue to ignore this any longer. To do so would be worse than Fudge!"

The other teachers began to join in the protesting. McGonagall groaned and ran her hand from her forehead to her bun of smooth, graying hair. She coughed sternly, causing the others to quiet. Hermione gaped at the effect this woman could have on a group of people. It was something to aspire to.

As McGonagall began to reply, Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine and felt a pair of eyes stare blankly at her. She glanced around at the staff members, seeking the culprit. To her utter disbelief, Professor Eucken was staring at her, his dark eyes twinkling. She wanted to smile to him (or _anything_) and send him the message that she was rather uncomfortable, but her courage failed. His eyes did not leave hers, and his hands began to clench and unclench, making her gulp convulsively, look away, and nervously shuffle papers around.

"That's it!" McGonagall cried angrily, causing everyone to jump. "Mr. Flinch- Fletchley, Ms. Granger, wait outside my office! _Now!_"

Hermione quickly scrambled out of her seat and raced out of the office, the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses staring and mumbling as she passed. It took Justin a little longer to be shoved out of the office. Once outside, Hermione watched Justin pace furiously up and down the stairs , mumbling things she couldn't make out. She remained silent; she knew better than to aggravate him when he already seemed livid.

It wasn't long before she heard hushed voices in close proximity. She looked around to see the door of the Headmistress's office slightly ajar. Checking to see that Justin was too deep in thought to notice, she tiptoed quickly to the crack of shimmering light. She could hear the conversations of the staff.

"You have to do something, Minerva!" a nervous looking Professor Vector begged. McGonagall remained seated, her arms crossed over her chest and a stubborn look planted on her face.

"You can't ignore it forever!" Professor Flitwick squealed, spreading his tiny hands apart in a gesture Hermione couldn't quite understand. The half-goblin continued. "Mr. Flinch-Fletchley is right! And what are you going to say to the parents when they say the same things?"

"I won't make the bloody school look like a damn war zone!" McGonagall snapped, causing Flitwick to cower in his book-raised seat.

"If that's what it takes," mumbled Professor Eucken. The other staff members turned to him as though just noticing he was there. The shock on their faces suggested they had believed he had dosed off long ago. His eyes were half open, either in considerable thought or considerably lack of it. His five o'clock shadow topped off the look, causing him to resemble a bum from the streets of Knockturn Alley.

"You don't understand - " McGonagall began.

Professor Eucken cut her off abruptly, banging his large fist onto the table. It shook violently, causing poor Flitwick to wobble dangerously on his pile of books.

"Don't you understand?" he snarled as the others watched him incredulously. Had he imbibed too liberally at the Hogshead?

"We are facing more dangerous things than Voldemort in this very castle! And goddamn it, I am NOT going to let you turn a blind eye towards it and act like it isn't there!"

"What are raving on about?" McGonagall snapped irritably.

His voice lowered to a dangerous half-whisper. "There is a ring…it's incredibly deadly." Eucken's lips formed a smirk too similar to that of an insane man. "It has the power to destroy Hogsmeade in an instant, but then again, who needs that pathetic little village anyway?" he suddenly added with a sneer. The room went silent.

Hermione felt a sharp burn on one of her fingers and had to stifle the squeal that threatened to issue from her mouth. The ring Ron had given her was glowing a bright yellow, just as it had done before when she and Eucken were racing to his rooms.

Quickly shoving a few fingers into her mouth to stifle the moans that threatened to erupt, she wrenched the burning ring off and threw it away from her as hard as she could. It flew down the stairs to where Justin was pacing. She heard it _clunk. _Turning, she looked back into the office to see Professor Eucken twitching, violent spasms wracking his beaten body in the most unpleasant and impossible ways.

As suddenly as they started, the spasms stopped. The surrounding professors stood around him, worry etched on their faces.

"What happened?" Professor Sprout breathed, her small, pudgy hands clasping to her white face. Professor Slughorn swiftly waddled over to Eucken and placed his hand on the latter's forehead. Eucken started, his eyes bulging wide at the contact.

As if struggling with himself, Professor Eucken sat up properly, Sprout fussing about the cushions on his seat.

Hermione, being the insufferable know-it-all that she was, quickly understood everything. The ring was powerful, as Eucken had explained before; even powerful enough to control people. That explained Eucken's weird behavior, along with Madam Pomfrey's, McGonagall's and others. Even she herself had felt odd, though more in an emotional manner. Thankfully it seemed to not have totally taken her over.

As she painfully wondered why the ring seemed to be more lenient on her than anyone else, Hermione felt large tears slip down her face. '_Oh Merlin, this is entirely my fault! Why, of all things, did I have to pick _that _ring? Professor Eucken's in so much pain and it's all my fault!_'

Before Professor McGonagall could speak, Professor Eucken spoke up with a hoarse voice that sounded more like his own. "We need to upgrade our securities and have a little talk with Miss Granger."

"But why - " several began, but Eucken again cut them off.

"She has the ring."

Hermione felt a pang of guilt, the falling tears leaving a salty taste in her mouth as they seeped in her parted lips. Her nose stuffed up and she desperately wanted to let out a long sob, regardless of whether or not anyone could hear her.

"Aha!" Slughorn cried triumphantly as he pointed a sausage-like finger at Eucken. The Defense professor slowly raised an eyebrow in return. Professor Sprout huffed loudly and placed her hands on her large waist, glaring at the Potions master. But Slughorn continued on.

"You have that Granger girl wrapped around your finger, eh? I thought it was all gossip, but I guess it's true, isn't it? First that Patil girl, and now Granger? What have you been doing with her? Telling her lies, making promises you don't intend to keep, or something…else?" The last word came out with a sly, accusatory taste.

"Horace!" McGonagall cried in shock as her hands went to her mouth. Professor Sprout huffed once again in outrage and began to advance on the Potions Master, a clenched fist and pudgy finger shaking angrily at him.

"Now see here, Horace! He is a good boy!" Her words came out in a snarl. Slughorn backed up, obviously surprised at Sprout's retort. Hermione watched with bated breath, not sure what to expect, nor even what she hoped for.

"He would never do such a thing! Never in his mind would it cross to touch a student – _a student_,_ Horace!_ What is it with you? Do you not understand the staff oath to never betray one another or come up with unnecessary gossip about other members?"

"And what about Severus Snape?" Slughorn bellowed back, his fists clenching until his knuckles went white. "Why do you let him off easy? He broke about fifty rules of the staff oath, and where is he now?"

"And what does Snape have anything to do with this conversation?" Madam Hooch demanded, her pipe hanging loosely from her mouth. She was the only faculty member, besides Eucken, who was still sitting down. Her hawk-like yellow eyes gazed at Slughorn, taking in his purple face.

"This isn't what we should be discussing right now!" Professor Eucken cried desperately. Still the mothering sort, Professor Sprout ran to him, ready to coddle and protect him from the accusations. But Eucken wasn't having any of it. He had to tell them.

"I need to tell you all I know-"

"Trying to change the subject, are you?" Slughorn yelled in challenge. His tone had Flitwick literary shaking with anger. "This isn't over with just yet! I want to know-!"

"What do you want to know?" Professor Eucken roared out as he stood up abruptly, toppling over his chair. Sprout stood awkwardly in the middle of the two men, trying to decide what she should do first: lash out on Slughorn or comfort Eucken?

"Would you like me to replay the endless commands I'm being given by that-that _monster? _Or how about the images of me strangling you and my other colleagues until your limp and lifeless body tells me that you're dead? Or would you like me to explain the horrid pictures or the nasty, bloody, gory, cruel nightmares of wizards and witches being tortured?" His voice became weaker and began to sound like he was struggling with tears as he continued. "Or would you rather me to explain the fantasies I'm being forced to see of Miss Granger's naked, innocent body underneath mine as I rape her over and over while she cries in agony and for help?"

Hermione felt herself cry even more, but this time in anger. It began deep inside and rose up in her chest at the thought of his cruel fantasies of her. She had reached the end of her rope, the end of her control. A long, wailing sob escaped her.

Eucken didn't make up those things; he said he was being forced to see them. Or was he lying?

'_He can't be_,' she thought to herself as her sobs continued and she fell onto the stone step. '_He knew about the ring before when he was trying to lead me to the safety of his room, and I punched him!_'

Just then, to Hermione's shock and embarrassment, she noticed Professor Sprout crouched in front of her. She pulled Hermione swiftly into an embrace that the girl accepted. For endless minutes, the two held onto one another, the brunette continuing to cry over this new bit of information.

Eventually Sprout forced her to stand up, then she led her back into the room she desperately wished to never go into again. Hermione tried to hide her red face and ignore the stares of the other teachers. The female teachers approached her and huddled around her as if protecting her while McGonagall stood in front of Hermione.

"I will get Aurors, threstles, giants, dragons…whatever it takes to protect you," she told her softly. Her tired, wrinkled, stressed-out face revealed all that Hermione wished she could understand. "Even though I wish to deny it, I cannot anymore. I cannot have my pupils being hurt. I promise you that I will try with all my might to protect Hogwarts and its inhabitants."

As the old woman hugged her, Hermione felt herself hug the Headmistress back.

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I did warn you. 

Our beloved werewolf is coming into play in the next chapter...about time, too, I would agree. Hopefully this chapter helped you to understand how he comes in.

And to let you know, some things will not be fully explained, even in the future. I simply meant this story to be as confusing as I could plan it to be at the time (which was really early in the morning after having a dream that inspired me to write this). I myself hate it when things aren't explained, but unfortunately I am too lazy and uncoordinated to explain EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING. It's yup to you to try to figure things out (I try to help you by putting this into Hermione's perspective and write her hypothesies on things as well - ex. "Hermione, being the insufferable know-it-all that she was, quickly understood everything.")

Oh! And check out the new challenge **ShyMoonlight** and I have made! (It's under her penname.)

Well, what did you think?

Review, though you may not like me after this...?


	11. Chapter 11: Holiday Cheer

Thank you once again, **Kimi! **Your reviews are always appreciated to me, and Eucken is bad. Very bad. :)

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Disclaimer - **I do not own Harry Potter and Company. But I still celebrate Remus' birthday, which is this Friday:) Happy 46th birthday you lovely wolf-man!

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**Dedication - **To the men I have strange infatuations over : 

**The one who gets on my nerves though I always forgive him**. You tired thing, I'll find you lost hoodie for you and steal that computer for you anytime. He doesn't need it anyway.**  
**

**The one who provoked the wedge between us. **I haven't done a thing to you, so why do you hang around with people who wear just as much make-up as you do? You know I care when they're gone and leave you by yourself. You know that I look, but you don't look back.

**And to the one who looks like a rather young, but stupid, Remus Lupin. **I'm sorry my hand writing is impossible, but you know that's why I purposely give my friends my papers. Do you always have to get in trouble and make everyone isolate you from your own friends?

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Hermione found the coldness of December useful in numbing the pain of the information she had learned almost a full month ago. 

There was nobody to talk to about it, besides Professor Sprout, who was being exceptionally kind to her. Ginny was never around for a spare moment; Harry was mysteriously disappearing on her; Parvati and Lavender wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole and would never let her live if she ever told them of Professor Eucken having forced fantasies about her; and Ron was acting very oddly now that there were Aurors patrolling the corridors. She felt so alone.

Hermione leaned on a frozen tree beside the lake, ignoring the Auror charming the snow away in an effort to make a path. It would help the Aurors patrol the grounds.

Deep within her heart she had forgiven Professor Eucken for his odd behavior since it wasn't his fault. And somehow she had found it in herself to forgive the ring that had left a burn scar on her finger. She was a very kind and forgiving girl; she had even found it within herself to forgive Professor Snape, even if he _had_ killed Dumbledore.

A silent tear slipped but froze halfway down her cheeks.

But it wasn't easy. To forgive, that is. Hermione remembered the horror on Professor Eucken's face when he had learned she'd heard his confession of the private fantasies he was forced to watch. She also remembered how Justin came back into the room with the ring and how Hooch had placed dozens of charms on it. She also remembered the staff placing the ring within some of Fawkes' old ashes in hopes they would be able to purify the ring.

Hermione sighed; the puff of warm air escaped her mouth and swirled within the air gracefully. If she stayed out here much longer, she was bound to get lectured by one of the professors or Aurors. It was too cold to spend much time hanging out, and she didn't want them to think she was up to something, either.

She slowly trudged back to the castle as narrowed yellow eyes followed her every move.

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Students filled the Great Hall; it looked like school was still in session, though the teachers and their dazzling displays of decorations declared the holidays. 

The armor was polished and the squeak was long since gone as they held the long strings of popcorn or wreaths. Little orbs hung around, lighting up even the darkest corridors and giving the school an air of festivity. The twelve Christmas trees Hagrid had brought in were decorated with twice as many decorations as last year. An extra tree had been nestled in the chamber, decorated intensely in memory of Albus Dumbledore and his second favorite holiday. Nary a limb nor needle was left bare of holiday ornamentation. Fairies waltzed in and out of the trees and would sometimes hide in the student's hair if they weren't paying attention.

There were, of course, party poopers like Filch, who was mumbling more swear words than necessary because some second year Gryffindors had written bad poetry on the walls. "_Filch is a git, and it wouldn't be a shock, if he hasn't ever, touched a -._" Hermione stopped reading there, the final word a tad too rude for her taste.

Peeves was his usual uncontainable self, stealing some student's wand, immobilizing the fairies, and forcing them physically into rude messages.

As Hermione made her way to the library, she reflected on the past month. It was surreal, if not completely unimaginable. She made her way past the study tables to the massive shelves, heavily laden with the written keys to the universe. No one but Madam Pince occupied the reference room, and for that Hermione was joyful. She really needed some time alone.

Just as she dumped her things on a nearby study shelf, she heard someone approach. She turned to see Ron entering the library. She wondered what he wanted; it had to be important for him to actually step foot into the library. She stood silently, patiently waiting for him as he trudged over to her, his hands shoved awkwardly into his patched trouser pockets.

"Hello Ronald. What are you doing here?" Her tone was cheerful, her expression perky and eager at seeing her boyfriend. Her clasped hands twitched excitedly and her damp boots squeaked against the wooden floor from her trek through the snowy grounds.

"Nothing, I just wanted to see what you were up to," he admitted awkwardly as he stared at his worn out shoes.

"Nothing!" she replied, celebrating in her own jubilee. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes. At first she thought nothing of his sheepish expression, but something didn't gel. She spent a moment looking over him before she realized what had caught her subconscious attention. Something was on his long giraffe-like freckled neck. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she asked him cautiously, "Ron, what's that on your neck?"

She pointed to the mark and he immediately clasped his large hand over it, his face going red. Her once cheerful face fell into confusion as he began to struggle in explanation. As she continued to wait for a coherent response, she realized the mark was a bruise and was about to comment when he burst out.

"You know what?" he cried out angrily; she flinched and took a step back from his fuming form. "I came here to spend time with you, and you can't appreciate that and start asking me stupid, pointless questions! Fine! You know what? I-I'm going!"

He wheeled around so his slouched back was toward her, shoved his hands into his pockets once again, and stormed out of the library, mumbling. What did she do wrong? she desperately wanted to know. Her eyes began to water, and she found she wasn't in the mood anymore to search throughout the library. It wasn't the place she wanted to be; she wanted to be in Ron's outstretched arms. But apparently _that _wasn't going to happen. She wanted to smack her head endlessly against the wall as punishment for being so…so _Hermione!_

Her boots squeaked against the stone floor as she left, weaving through the students running down the corridors in song. Despite her mood to the contrary, Christmas _was _coming up. She would just have to put her personal issues aside and play the part of happy, school-spirited Head Girl.

Aurors, including some Order members, patrolled the corridors. Though she was glad there was more protection now at Hogwarts, Hermione missed the quiet, serene hallways the holidays usually brought. She sighed and had to remind herself to ignore the additional patrols and crowds of students staying through the break. Overall it was a good thing that parents had come to their senses and realized that Hogwarts was one of the safest places available in the Wizarding world.

Her mind drifted to the meeting they'd had about Hogwarts' protection. She wondered if the new security regime was worth the horrors that had been unfolded before her that day. Only time would tell.

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"_Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa, la, la, la, la, la-la, la, la!_" Ginny chanted merrily in her opera-house soprano. Hermione giggled and threw a piece of holly at the redhead. Repeated retribution ensued, and decorations found themselves everywhere but where they were supposed to be. The girls' giggles drifted and echoed throughout the long, spiral staircase that led to the girls' dormitories. 

Their chatter stopped when they heard Harry's excited voice echo up to them.

"Girls, get down here! I've some good news!"

They were on their way down the stairs in an instant, their giggles never ceasing. They reached the Common Room to find Ron sitting by the fireplace, two unknown figures next to him. The pitch black night outside the mullioned windows offered no assistance in identifying the guests. Harry was leaning against the fireplace, hands on his hips and a huge smile on his face.

Hermione, ever so curious, eagerly approached the group and was greeted with an electric-blue eye peering from a patchwork face.

"Granger," a rough voice greeted her. Hermione was momentarily startled as she recognized Mad-Eye Moody. What was he doing here? A moment's pause passed as she regained her composure and returned his greeting.

"Hermione," another voice, calm, gentle and warm, greeted her from her right. Her eyes widened as she turned to see the second mystery guest stand to greet her.

His tall, slender frame looked a bit unnourished, his face slightly gaunt and tired. But his broad shoulders expressed the lean muscles beneath that his shabbiness belied. His graceful steps brought him to her, and in her happiness she could not stop herself wrapping her arms about him tightly in welcome.

"_Professor!_" she cried out, her joy evident in her tone. Caught off guard, **Lupin** had stumbled back a step before returning the embrace, though with less buoyancy but just as much sincerity.

"So good to see you, so good," he murmured into her unruly hair, his voice low and strangled in emotion. They stepped back and Hermione found herself blushing, for the first time in a long while self conscious in the presence of her former professor. She truly was glad to see him, and not only because he had praised her so thoroughly before the semi-insane Eucken. She had been frantically worried about him, considering his actions on the train platform at the beginning of the year.

As Lupin turned to greet Ginny, Hermione backed away and sat uncomfortably next to Ron. Not surprisingly, the latter seemed to be ignoring her presence at the moment – his favorite thing to do around her after the library incident.

Ginny joined Harry by the fire, nestling herself between his legs and leaning back into his chest. Well, at least _someone_ was glad for his girlfriend's company.

Lupin sat back down in the chair he'd previously occupied, his expression returning to one of pleasant serenity. Hermione spoke up, inwardly cursing her own curiosity.

"Why are you two here?"

Lupin responded first. "Well, because of the new security measures," he explained kindly, his tired blue eyes resting on her wide brown ones. "And because we've some investigating to do."

"_Investigating_? What for?" Ginny asked in a Mrs. Weasley-like manner that had Ron giving a quick, full-body shiver. Hermione wondered how she could do that with just two small questions.

"None of your business," Moody answered gruffly. Ginny scowled at him (the resemblance to her mother quite amazing). Moody's blue eye swiveled in her direction, taking in her hands-on-waist posture. "Now shut up and stop asking questions."

A heavy silence filled the room before Harry broke it with talk of Quidditch strategies. Though not a fan herself, Hermione was grateful for the lightened mood. A bonus was Ron's edging away from her on the couch. Just as well, as she was not in the mood to pamper his touchy ego at the moment.

While everyone seemed to be pleased with each other's company, Hermione wished that things were as they used to be, before this past summer when everything seemed to change. She stared at the scar on her finger, the only reminder that the ring Ron had purchased for her was now a part of her past, along with, apparently, her relationship with him.

A curious thought crossed her mind: just how much was she willing to give to have things back to the way they were? Only silence answered her.

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Well, I know that this is early, but I can't go on on Thursday this week. I've been on all night yesterday and today and this machine is frying my brain actually. 

I'm glad to hear that people somewhat liked the last chapter, but still were disturbed by it. But, believe me, there is much more confusion and insanity in other chapters to come. So, let me make out a warning before someone decides to flip out on me in the near future (though I wish that to not happen) :

**WARNING**: This story is NOT in any way nice at some points in times. Sure, there will be fluff-ness galore in future chapters, but not all of the time. I'm not that sappy. And since this story was partially made before HBP, some characters act odder than others prove them to, and this is on MY OPINION. I like stories that are evil and dark, and this odd fascination is put DIRECTLY INTO this story. If you do not like mentions of either **rape, torture (both mental and physical), sex, **and **ecetera** **(which of course means J.K.'s Characters/OC's**), then DO NOT READ FURTHER.

I don't mean to make this story seem like others that far more bloody and...yeah, but it's a precaution. It's just like you'd do if you were unsure about your story being a T rating or an M rating. (Pg-13 or R). Whatever.

And I'm terribly sorry for the confusing dedications. Those I write to get off my chest and because it's fun to know things when other's don't. It just proves I have a life outside of the computer. :)

(And I purposely bolded Remus' name. I know all of you out there were just dying to see him, so that is for all of you! Especially for you **siriusly lupine **because I know that you were patiently waiting. And I will say there will be very light RL/HG stuff in the next chapter, hopefully, well, I'm not sure because I don't remember...)

**REVIEW **because you know you want to. :)

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	12. Chapter 12: A Night to Stress Over

**Kimi** - Thanks for the review :) I'm glad you liked the last line, but to tell you the truth, the last sentence was all **R J Lupin's Kat**. (The question part was mine, though.) She has such a talented way with adding things in at the right moment and at the right time. Go **Kat!**

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Disclaimer**- I don't own Harry Potter and Co. I own a pencil and a heart that won't stop beating.

**Dedication**- To readers like **bookluvr4life** who like to read these dedications, to the **one on the absentee list** (for once) who probably did that on purpose to tick me off, to **my friend** who I wish to continue to beat with my free poster because she's a total moron when it comes to my mother's deja vu, to my **ignorant little boy** who I think about when I remember and read that rather informative and nasty article, and to **people who absolutely hate me** because my ancestors are from Brooklyn.

And more importantly: to the **dreamlike state** this past week has been. I owe it all to my insensitive work.

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Christmas was steadily approaching, and Hermione found herself scrambling to make sure she had gotten the right presents for everybody. Her closet had to be rearranged at least three times to hide the ever-growing pile of presents, as Ginny had made it a daily routine to see her for homework help or just for some tea. And knowing Ginny's big mouth, Hermione was positive that if the redhead found out who was getting what, she would spoil the whole art of surprise that came with Christmas. 

Who knew that such a festive holiday could be such a pain to make special?

As if the holidays weren't enough to keep her nerves frayed, Mad-Eye Moody had taken to waiting by the girls' dormitory staircase. That in itself was annoying. But it was also a bit unnerving to find Lupin casually lounging in a chair, helping the students who were extremely pleased to have him back. He seemed to fit right in, a natural part of her scenery. It made her wonder if she could tie him up and shove him behind a potted plant without anyone noticing.

Ginny seemed thoroughly pleased with herself and was now escorting Hermione around everywhere, no matter how hard Hermione tried to ditch her for some alone time. A smug Ginny wasn't fun to be around.

But, as hard as it was to get rid of Ginny, it was even harder to ignore the stares the Order members gave her. This unpleasantness told her that McGonagall made it fit to quell their curiosity and tell them what had happened in her office. _Just lovely_, she thought. _More people to make me feel even more miserable without even trying._

Late one day Hermione had finally managed to hook Ginny in a conversation with Harry and was able to take a peaceful walk outside on the snow-white grounds. Finding her 'thinking' tree, she made herself comfortable between the outgrowing roots, hoping to get some rest and think about what to do with both Ron and Eucken. But two deep male voices echoed from faraway, breaking her reverie.

Cautiously, Hermione peered her head around the thick trunk of the tree to see two tall, black-cloaked figures walking through the path the Aurors usually did. The dark blue background of the coming night limited her ability to clearly make out the men.

Hermione panicked, for they could be Death Eaters. She swiftly took her wand out and stood up from the snowy and frozen ground. She estimated that if she didn't move, they were going to see her. She framed her body against the trunk of the tree and began to hesitantly follow the curve of the foliage, keeping an eye on her predators.

The voices, however, did nothing to comfort her as they drew ever closer. Fearing they had found her tracks in the snow, she gripped her wand even tighter and chorused in her head a curse that would likely disarm them…if she hit them.

Her heart pounded as she moved a bit more across the tree, her cloak dragging along the lumps of snow mutilated by her footsteps. Hearing the voices even closer to her now frightened her, but it also told her they were close enough for her to be able to throw a surprise attack on them. Seizing her chance, Hermione jumped out from hiding place, startling the two figures, and yelled out a stunning spell. She watched with anguished disappointment as one of the figures tackled the other to the ground as the red flash flew by them.

Hermione saw the figure on bottom – her intended target – focus his wide eyes on her as he threw an unfamiliar curse at her. She dove onto the snow covered ground to protect herself. Before she could even get to her feet, she was turned around and pinned deeper into the snow by one of the heavy, cloaked figures. She glared up through her tussled locks to see the familiar blues of Remus Lupin. Guilt welled up inside after comprehension dawned, and she smiled weakly. His expression was one of gentle comfort rather than chastisement, and he smiled lightly as he knelt beside her.

The other figure had helped himself up from the ground to his full height. Hermione turned to face him, the newly resurrected torchlight from the castle casting a reddish glow upon the handsome man. She had almost stunned Professor Eucken.

Oh, God. Instant shame rose up in her. Why would two Death Eaters be so calm to walk around the grounds of Hogwarts?

Sensing her distress, Lupin politely reached over and pulled her body gently to his in a one-armed hug. She relaxed against his chest and his other arm wrapped around her trembling frame. She huddled against him as his hand ran through her hair, pulling her head gently against him into the crook of his neck. Somehow, she found this all to be what she wanted. And above all, it was comforting.

Slowly and tenderly, he rocked her back and forth as everything around her fell silent. It even seemed as if Eucken wasn't standing there, only feet away. He seemed to have been frozen, whether from the cold weather or what, she didn't know.

Tears welled up and spilled down Hermione's cheeks, soaking Lupin's robes. She was consumed with shock and bewilderment that this man who was comforting her was strong enough to hold her to him, understanding enough to want to do so.

Embarrassment and shame increased her saltwater purification. Her tears increased in size and quantity, her body racking in sobs that echoed throughout the grounds. But even through her cries, she could hear Lupin's soft "hmms" and "shhs," the only thing that comforted her besides his strong arms.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed against his shoulder as his hand continued to stroke through her impossible hair. "I-I didn't mean to…"

"It's not your fault," he murmured. "You were right in trying to defend yourself against strangers. There is no harm in doing so, especially in the world we live in today. You were very brave, a true Gryffindor…"

She sniffed loudly before curling even closer to his body's warmth. She could feel the numbness of her toes slowly creep up her body. But ignoring the cold atmosphere, she closed her eyes to savor the bliss he was giving her, grabbing his lapel to make sure he didn't leave her.

An indeterminable amount of time passed, and she heard him whisper to Eucken. "I think she fell asleep."

"Well then, let's quickly bring her inside before she catches her death out here."

Hermione did not dare move, and Lupin was able to adjust his position to gather her legs before lifting her from the ground.

She snuggled even closer to his body's warmth as she felt her frozen feet dangle. He was security as well as warmth. Seeking more of the latter, her frozen fingers moved to grip his shirt, as close to his flesh as she could get.

"Don't be ashamed of what he put you through," Lupin said quietly to Eucken. The younger man paused before replying, weighing his words.

"Still, I enjoyed what he showed me I could have had if I had acted upon my feelings," Eucken replied solemnly as the snow crunched below. "Do not play me out as the hero, Remus, because I'm not."

"Neither am I. So believe me when I tell you this," Lupin replied, his warm breath tickling her neck.

The night was silent as Hermione inhaled the deep scent that lingered on Lupin…musk, dirt, new books, soap… She turned her nose slightly to smell what other aroma he held that calmed her so, along with the steady beat of his heart. She exhaled close to the back of his ear, apparently a sensitive spot, making him shiver.

"I saw images of her beneath me," Eucken said, cutting through the silence. "Some were her wanting me badly, moaning my name over and over, while others were of her fighting me and crying for help." Lupin did not reply, but Hermione wished he would. She hoped he would calm the discussion down as she realized Eucken had revealed this before when he thought she wasn't there. He was speaking of the images he had been forced to see, images where he was doing… _things_… to _her_… "There were others of her straddling me in my office chair or of her body… exposed… to me, and only me.

"It comforted me," he went on as a sudden impulse to shut Eucken up ran through her. His words made her feel even more horrid than she already did. "Those images… they made me feel like a man, like someone who was loved… someone who deserved love."

"And why do you not deserve love?" Lupin asked him quietly as Hermione felt her grip loosen on his shirt. Her head lolled to drape across his arm, her hands lightly pressed against another part of his shirt.

"I was condemned to hell the day I was born," Eucken began, no emotion whatsoever in his voice. Hermione felt soft hands trace the outline of her cheeks. "I was not supposed to be like my real father. The man who claimed to be my father wasn't, yet he went to great lengths to keep me from discovering the deception.

"I was not supposed to make that same mistake my real father made that got him killed; I was supposed to continue living my false life as if it was the truth. Why do you think I ran away so early in my school year? I was tired of being what they wanted me to be, and my only means of rebellion was having every girl I could without my parents' permission. And even though that made them increasingly mad, it wasn't enough…"

Somewhere inside Hermione felt pity for this man, but soft fingers tracing her lips chased it all away. Those fingers returned to run through her hair, and she began to drift in comfort.

"I had a friend who ran away from his parents, but he stayed in school," Lupin replied kindly, a hint of restraint in his calm voice.

"But that is my past now, and here I am," Eucken added with a depressing sigh. The soft fingers disappeared from her unruly brown hair. "What would you do, Remus, if you were in love but you couldn't do a single thing about it… and she didn't love you back…?"

Something made Hermione's heart stop momentarily; the desire ran through her to open her eyes and blankly stare at Eucken until he corrected himself or explained what was going on.

"Hermione is definitely different than any other young woman I've ever met in my life," Lupin said calmly. She could see now where he probably complimented her as much as Eucken had said he did. "She would respect your feelings and never do anything to hurt them. And Hermione holds love for everyone she knows, so don't say she doesn't love you for she _does _love everyone, whether they be friends or enemies."

As she desperately wanted to know how Lupin could understand so much about her, Eucken cut her train of thought off with his hoarse and angry voice.

"But how could she love people like Severus Snape or… or even that – that _Weasley?_"

"What do you mean "that Weasley"? What has Ron to do with any of this?"

"He-he…makes me so _mad_, that little weasel! If only I could tell her what he does behind her back! He makes me want to claw out his eyes so he can finally appreciate that some beauty is only skin deep. And out of all the people in the student population, he has the prettiest girl…"

"Walls can hear and spread things around," Lupin warned.

Silence echoed in the following moments, and Hermione wished that Lupin had not cut Eucken short.

Warmth surrounded her shivering body, and she recognized the Entrance Hall's protective stone walls through the slightest slit in her eyelids. The mood around the two men drastically changed, and she had to put up with the mindless topics of conversation the two were now engaging in. It was as if the previous discussion they'd had didn't happen. Students that passed by and saw her sleeping form in Lupin's arms would have never guessed what had been the topic of discussion.

As they made their way around the castle, Hermione began to wonder how she'd never even noticed Eucken's strange behavior around her before. She felt incredibly stupid. How could she not tell by the way Eucken had danced with her on Halloween, quick to avoid her afterwards, and then jumped to Parvati, which had caused all that mess with her fancy and such…?

That girl was such a bloody _tart_…

The familiar warmth and smell of fire burning made her realize that they had made it all the way to the Gryffindor common room. Voices were talking, and they became clearer as Hermione felt Lupin bring her closer to two in particular.

"Eh, there's Granger," a voice growled, distinctly Moody's.

"Where was she?" a frantic, high-pitched voice squealed, hurting Hermione's ears. Ginny.

"Outside," Lupin replied rather cheerfully, while Hermione snuggled even closer to his hard body. She suddenly wished that he would never let her go, allowing her newly found peace to stay with her for as long as possible. She wanted to make the lull before the storm last until the future could no longer be avoided.

"Might as well put her upstairs, Lupin," Moody growled. She could feel Lupin gather her closer, protectively, and he began to walk apparently to the girls' staircase. "Stay here Eucken. McGonagall ordered you to not get too… _close_."

Lupin stopped and turned in some direction Hermione couldn't place. She concluded it was probably an attempt to give Eucken an apologetic face. It _was_ what Lupin would probably do.

"I know what the Headmistress told me, but it surprises me how _you_ of all people would know."

"She gave me special orders to see to it that you did not get, as I repeat, '_too close_'. I'm sure Granger wouldn't want to wake up with her Defense professor drooling over her."

"Well, _Snape_, since I'm not welcome anymore, I shall be departing."

Hermione snuggled even closer to Lupin, reminding him she needed to be safely brought to her comfortable bed instead of standing around for the argument that was bound to happen between the two.

"Not yet, Eucken," Moody growled before snapping, "Get to bed, Weasley."

But before Hermione could hear the argument that would sound close to what Mrs. Weasley would say, Lupin began to climb the stairs up to the girls' dormitories. She wondered if only young boys were barred from the girls' dormitories, while Lupin – no longer a student – was allowed.

She sighed in approval before nuzzling her way up to his neck, her arms wrapping around it gently. He gave a slight chuckle that rumbled through his chest, making her body vibrate with it. Once again she inhaled his scent to embed it within her mind, to remember it whenever she needed to calm herself.

When they reached her room, he gently lowered her body to her silk-laden bed like a fine piece of jewelry on display. Her body protested at first, her arms refusing to leave his neck.

"Hermione… let go!" he grunted softly. Her answer was only to tighten her grip, forcing him to topple onto her. She blushed as he tried to untangle their limbs. He grunted in frustration before getting off her body and quickly taking her shoes and socks off. "Ha," he chuckled softly. "There, we're even!"

She wanted to laugh at this, but had to remind herself that he thought she was still asleep. He sat on the bed and pulled her frail body towards him. He gently unclasped her robes and threw them onto a nearby chair.

This time she quickly and blindly attached herself to him before he could lay her back down. He groaned in frustration. Her arms wrapped securely around his body, bringing her ear next to his chest and taking in the quickened pace of his scarred heart. Once again she mumbled her approval. He tried again to pry her off of his body.

"This is getting quite ridiculous, Hermione," Lupin groaned, sighing in defeat as she relaxed against him and curled her body up to fit his lean frame. "You're going to have to get into that bed, because I am _not _going to be your pillow _all night long_, and you know it."

She mocked him and began to make herself even more comfortable, moving her arms to wrap about his neck once again and rubbing her unruly hair against him. He sighed once again, but in defeat wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer to him, eliminating the once infinite space that was between them, both physical and personal.

Time crawled slowly by and Hermione's grip began to loosen, her mind fading into slumber. Lupin seized the opportunity and pried her once steel-like grip off of him. He laid her softly and gently back onto the bed.

He carefully tucked her under her silk sheets and pulled the quilt to her chin before leaving her side. Hermione lazily wondered what he was doing before she sensed the room warming up as crackling noises filled the room.

After tending to the fire, Lupin returned to her side once again and lightly pressed his soft lips onto her cold forehead. This made her feel that he shouldn't have given her the quilt for it was growing too hot now.

He gave her a quick goodnight before pulling away, muttering to himself, "_You're going to end up like him and you know it_." After the silence returned to lurk around the room, he left her to fall asleep with the artificial warmth.

* * *

Yay! RL/HG love for you all because well...it won't come too often. Just being nice for the cravings while I can. :) 

Oh! The next chapter's one of my absolute **favorites! **This, of course, means that : insane things are going to happen, you'll get answers as to why Ron's being a git, you'll see more of uncontrollable!Eucken, and, more importantly, we'll learn much more about the "shadow".

I don't have much to say, really. Just the usual: **Review please! **

* * *


	13. Chapter 13: Mind Games

Thanks goes out to: **Kimi **(as always!) and **lizz **(this story _is_ RL/HG, but if you would be so kind as to re-read my notes in the beginning of the first chapter, I purposely made the note to let people know that this story isn't solely about romance)!

* * *

**Disclaimer - (crappy, I know...and it doesn't even make sense!)  
**

Harry Potter doesn't like me,

And neither does Sirius Black.

And when hearing that J.K. can't be hacked,

They all decide to dance happily.

**Dedication** - I just wish that **my stupid, perverted, and incredibly tall 'friend' **would stop being mean to me. And if he ever sees this, I hope he'd understand that I can't keep holding onto little conversations that barely even exist. And, to **my ghost who hates my hair**, I wonder what you look like when I open my eyes.

* * *

"Wake up, wake up, wake up!" Ginny chorused repeatedly as she rocked Hermione over and over again. The groggy brunette groaned and slapped lazily at the air where she thought her human alarm clock was standing. "It's Christmas! Wake up, Scrooge!" 

A few choice words escaped Hermione's lips before she rolled out of bed. Ginny enthusiastically pounced onto the bed; Hermione enthusiastically popped her with her pillow. _Friends._

"Granger!" Moody barked. He began to pound a fist continuously on the wooden door separating them. "Enough nonsense! Get down to the common room! And Weasley, get out of there!"

Once the clunk of his wooden leg faded away, Ginny threw a pillow at the door in protest, her pink tongue sticking out to complete the picture of tomboy rebellion. She turned to drag a giggling and lazy Hermione out of bed, heading down toward the common room.

There, in the middle of the room, stood a huge, brightly decorated Christmas tree that hadn't been there before. An enormous amount of multicolored, illuminated presents called out to her, making her eyes widen at the sight.

"Happy Christmas!" chanted everyone merrily from the fireplace. Mad-Eye, Ron, Harry, and Lupin were resting pleasantly in the best chairs by the fire.

"Happy Christmas!" Ginny cheered with gusto, throwing her fist up in her own impromptu jubilee before diving into the presents. Ron followed her, a scowl forming on his face.

"Wait, no fair! We had to wait for you girls!"

Hermione giggled and shook her head, her smiling playing flirtatiously on her face as she eyed the gleaming presents. Her mind rambled and she decided to throw logical order out of the window and dived into the presents next to Ron and Ginny.

While everyone, including other students who had recently joined them in the festivities, were occupied shredding gift paper, Hermione noticed Lupin quietly sitting by the fireplace, alone in his thoughts. Hermione turned from the demonstration Moody was giving Ron and Ginny on how to change the colors of their jumpers, and headed toward Lupin, a small package cupped in her hands.

She coughed lightly, gaining Lupin's undivided attention. She thrust the small, emerald green package into his scarred hands.

"Happy Christmas," she said sheepishly. She couldn't help but look at her bare feet, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. "I hope you enjoy it."

When she dared to look up, his eyes were wide in surprise, crinkled slightly at the corners in good humor. A thrilled smile lit up his worn face, making her smile joyfully. She drank in the sight before her as he thanked her kindly and pulled the wrappings apart tenderly, as though savoring a rare treat.

There, beneath the fragile tissue paper, lay a long, thin grayish box. Gently he unlocked the golden clasp that bound the stone. He gaped at the faux silver chain bearing a large, heavy stone, its iridescent colors proclaiming it could only be –

"Moonstone?" he asked her hesitantly as he picked up the necklace and watched it idly twirl under the restraints of his fingers. "How did you find it? Most Potion's Masters, or Mistresses, have snatched it up from all public stores. It's almost impossible to find if you try to look in such a place as Hogsmeade."

"Well, I had to special order it by catalog like Ginny's Firestone," Hermione admitted as she watched him with interest. He seemed transfixed by her gift's graceful pendulum movements. "I know it's a necklace, and most men do not like to wear what they consider 'feminine' jewelry, but I thought you might like to have it to at least hold onto. I remember reading a long time ago that it helps calm people with your… condition."

She felt uneasy for trying to make his condition seem like some 'furry little problem' compared to her measly problems. She squirmed a bit, but Lupin seemed not to mind in the least, and gracefully put the gift back into its box, clasping it securely.

"If you have no problem with giving this to me, I don't either. Although I am a bit uneasy about how much this must have cost –"

"It was nothing; don't worry about it. I had to go for the fake silver because, well, y'know… and gold doesn't really go with it at all…"

"Nonetheless," he said with a pause. He looked up at her with those eyes that revealed all the truths, lies, lessons, and tales he seemed to be showing her. She, however, couldn't understand what he was trying to tell her. "I greatly appreciate it. I promise to keep it with me." She smiled.

Jubilant giggling brought their attention back to the group, where Ginny was draping a rather red-faced Harry with layers of jewelry. Hermione looked back at Lupin to see him nervously stand, his considerable height obvious against her petite frame. She felt like a sweet shop next to Big Ben.

He quickly excused himself before disappearing from the crowd. Her eyes followed his retreating back, unsure what to make of his abrupt departure. Her thoughts, however, were interrupted when a small, daring fifth year boy came reluctantly up to her dangling a piece of mistletoe between his fingers and kissed her sloppily on her burning cheek.

Everyone giggled at them and the boy nervously looked around like he had done something wrong. Hermione, though, felt embarrassment and pity for him and grabbed his flaming cheek to place a firm kiss onto it. He smiled bashfully.

The blue eyes of Ron watched her and the young boy in absolute fury. Narrowed yellow eyes joined him in their instant rage.

* * *

The festivities continued in the Great Hall where plump sugar plums, ripe chocolate-dipped cherries, honey-roasted turkey, and other various, delicious delicacies were being served to the family of Hogwarts. Even Slughorn seemed to be ignoring his crystallized pineapple for a moment to enjoy the rich feasts of the day.

Another table was set up for the Aurors and secret Order members for their hard work protecting the castle. As she watched them wolf down their well-deserved meal, Hermione could only hypothesize there was another reason they were there.

From her position she could see Moody gnawing animal-like on a turkey leg with Lupin sitting beside him, idly pushing his food around his plate. She kept her gaze on him the longest before looking around at the teachers' tables to find Headmistress McGonagall giggling childishly with a very red-faced Professor Sprout.

Further along the table sat bewildered Madame Hooch who was being assaulted by a tipsy Professor Vector. Flitwick was trying desperately to stay on his chair, the numerous numbers of wizarding texts weaving dangerously.

But among the cheer of the festivities sat a worn-looking Professor Eucken, his dark, twinkling eyes fixated on the wall beyond them like some sort of a portal revealed to him only. Hermione watched him intently until he seemed to snap out of his thoughts and returned his gaze to scan the entire student population self-consciously.

All of a sudden, Hermione snapped out of her own train of thoughts to find Professor Eucken returning her gaze. Their eyes locked tightly with one another's. Her heart pounded deep within her chest as his twinkle shone even brighter before. A warm smile crept onto his face, lighting his features while it wormed its way around his body, visibly relaxing it.

A red jolt of light zoomed by and hit Eucken forcefully on his cheek, sending him toppling out of his chair. Hermione and most of the staff members turned their heads to trace the spell to find the smug face of Mad Eye Moody, his wand pointed straight at the position where Eucken was moments before.

Lupin, an annoyed expression on his face, nudged Moody. The latter shrugged and returned to gnawing on his leg.

Eucken clambered up from the depths of the table with a furious look planted on his face. His look was a growl, and he pulled himself up with only one hand. Hermione could see, with distaste and pity, a large burn mark where Moody had hit him.

Before the professor could seek revenge, Madame Hooch having forced away a drunken Professor Vector, physically restrained Eucken and took his wand forcefully away. Eucken put up a rather fussy fight before letting his wand out of his possession.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at the boyish, pouting face Eucken put on. This was sure to be a fun Christmas evening.

* * *

"See? You look gorgeous!" Ginny protested as she ruthlessly shoved Hermione's cloak at her. "Now put the damn cloak on before I hex it to your skin! You're going to the Great Hall with me!"

"But-!" Hermione began her excuse. The redhead threw her a look that told her to seal her mouth shut before she was forced to do something drastic. The older girl sighed before flopping down onto her bed and putting on the heels. She had had to dig them up from the pile of 'womanly' things her mother had sent her. She just knew her feet would ache in the morning.

Ginny began to pace unnecessarily around the room, her own secondhand heels clicking against the wooden floor. Hermione rolled her eyes discreetly then declared herself ready, unsure how happy she really was about this. Ginny, however, was in great spirits, and it was enough for Hermione. A smile crept unbidden to her face and they left the room.

The two were ridiculously over-dressed for the impromptu ball McGonagall had declared in a fit of giggles that morning. Most of the students had decided to stay in the safety of their dormitories, protected from the inevitable soused state the adults would find themselves in, tradition being to throw their worries out the window for the evening.

They arrived at the Great Hall, which held no house, Auror, or teacher tables, to see they were two of the very few brave students to attend. The female teachers were giggling in bunches; a small group of male Aurors were cheering idiotically after every sip of alcohol.

Ginny dragged Hermione to a corner where a few were sitting in plush chairs. She was relieved to see her new companions were Moody, Lupin, Eucken, and Harry, all talking quietly to one another.

Ginny coughed, catching the attention of the men. The carbon copy of Molly Weasley sat leisurely next to Harry, bringing a bright smile to his face. Hermione, on the other hand, sat uncomfortably next to Moody, whose blue eye was fixed firmly on Eucken. The latter looked like someone had taken his breath away.

"You girls should go back to your rooms; it's not safe during this time," Moody growled roughly as his normal eye fixed on Ginny. She answered with a defiant cross of her arms over her chest. He turned to Lupin. "By the way, Lupin… Remind me to never let McGonagall near Trelawney's stash of cooking sherry."

Silence held for several minutes before Harry began another conversation, much to Hermione's pleasure, about Astronomy. He didn't quite understand what the homework was. Safe in her medium, she began to explain to him the steps involved that should help him with his homework.

Something whizzed by her vision.

Black. And yellow.

Panic began to scratch at her hollow heart with long claws as she unclasped her sweaty palms. Everyone began to look at her strangely, for she had stopped in mid rant and her face was pale and frozen. But before she could dismiss it and excuse it as her imagination, something was slipped onto the palm of her hand. She clasped her fingers around it and looked down at her fist. There, visible over her fist, was strands of bright red hair that she instantly recognized as a Weasley's.

"Ron!" She cried the first name that came to her mind as panic crept ominously into her bruised soul like a foul fog.

Acting without thought, Hermione stood up and ran as fast as her heels would allow. She ignored the cries of her outstretched name. There was no time for any sort of explanation! She could just feel the tortured things that were bound to be revealed to her sometime in the future; she at least needed to try to prevent it, to stop the hurt that was going to happen.

Up ahead a figure in a black cloak stood in the hallway. She desperately clutched the red hair in her hand. She had to get to it before it could get away from her; she could tell it knew things she didn't and had the answers to her never-ending questions.

But it must have sensed her, as it turned and ran into a far hallway. Now she was more determined than ever to catch up to it.

One who runs has something to hide.

It seemed to take forever to reach the corridor. Her heels hindered her plight, causing her to slip several times. After her third face-to-stone meeting with the ground, she tore off the offending footwear and scrambled to her feet. She could hear the others behind her, following quickly.

The flagstones bruised her bare feet as she took off once again, ignoring the cries behind her. At the end of the corridor, a passageway opened up. Left or right? They both haunted her, laughed at her with deep, annoying voices.

A faint shadow appeared at the right. It was enough to decide to follow that path.

Was this all a cat and mouse game?

A dim light appeared from beneath a heavy wooden door just ahead on her right. Hermione skid to a halt and threw the door wide. She regretted her move instantly.

Two bodies were entwined, draped across a collection of desks. Her eyes stared in shock, wide and tearful. Ron and Lavender began to fumble in an effort to hide themselves and their embarrassment. Hermione simply stared, trying to get a grip on the situation around her numb and broken heart.

Suddenly, absolute fury and anger escaped her. Her fists clenched even tighter and salty tears continued to fall down her red, contorting face. Her scream echoed around the room, magnifying against the parallel stone walls. She grabbed a wooden chair and threw it at the chalkboard behind the two traitors. They ducked under the desk as she grabbed another chair and smashed it onto the table they'd just hidden beneath. Lavender let out a fearful scream as Hermione turned her attention to kicking the desk furiously.

It was enough for Ron to dart out from beneath the meager shelter, bare-chested. His wand was aloft, ready to defend himself and his companion. Apparently emboldened by his move, Lavender crawled out, too, and hid behind Ron in protection, her eyes shut tightly. The sight only added fuel to Hermione's rage.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ron cried as her eye twitched uncomfortably.

"Me? What the fuck is wrong with _you_, you stupid wanker!"

Lavender whimpered, but Hermione felt no remorse, her eyes catching sight of the large splinter embedded into the back of the girl's shoulder. Quite frankly she was so engaged she wouldn't feel any remorse should she strangle the two right now in the empty classroom.

"I'm your girlfriend!" Hermione reminded him. "Not some stupid whore that you can love and abandon at your whim!"

"You're mad! Insane!" Ron protested loudly making her go even redder.

"You know what, go shag your bloody prostitute!" she seethed, grabbing her wand. "It's not like I have any feelings! I'm just some stupid bloody ice queen who always goes behind my boyfriend's back! Just like _her_!" She threw a glare at Lavender, who was now looking at her with utter loathing. Ron's face continued to tort in anger.

"Don't say that about her! She doesn't do that!" he snarled, wrapping a protective arm around the girl in question. Lavender clutched him possessively in turn.

The bonfire of rage continued to grow inside of Hermione, causing her once again snap at his actions and hurl herself at the two. They dived apart, flailing for safety. But Lavender was too slow and before she knew it, Hermione had grabbed her hair and angrily slammed her head into the chalkboard. In defense, Lavender drove her long, multicolored nails into the brunette's face. But no pain was going to stop her vengeance. Lavender's head was driven repeatedly into the board until crimson began to smear into the black.

A hand grabbed Hermione and forced her roughly into the ground, prying her hand from Lavender's injured head. She flailed and thrashed about as she stood up, seething at the two as Ron clutched Lavender possessively.

"What the fuck is _wrong_ with you!" he screamed at her. Hermione grabbed her wand from the ground and began to approach the two, a curse or two forming in her head.

"I loved you!" she cried out hoarsely as tears began once again to fall down her stained face. She felt weak and horrible. "I loved you… and… this is how you… return it…"

Ron's bright blue eyes – the eyes she still adored – watched her in confusion as her knees gave way and she sank to the floor. Knowing no comfort would come from another, she curled into a ball and began crying, clutching desperately to herself. Her long hair hid her shameful face.

Large and impatient footsteps echoed on the room. She chanced a glance at Ron to see him staring in utter fear at something behind her, clutching Lavender desperately.

A deep, eerie voice spoke, filling the room. A chill ran down her spine as memory teased her. She knew that voice.

"I finally caught you into a corner, Weasley. Not so brave now, are you?"

"Who are you?" Ron whispered in definite horror, dragging himself and Lavender back away until he hit the wall.

"Why, I'm your worst nightmare," the voice cooed.

An ominous noise of the door creaking shut and locking resounded in the deserted room. Hermione gripped her wand tightly and slowly drew to her feet, her eyes seeking the root of their immediate problem. To her repulsion and fear, a figure in a black cloak turned to her. Yellow eyes shone back at her.

"L-leave them alone!" she stammered. Her wand was pointed defensively at the figure. It narrowed its eyes and chuckled deeply, reminding her of Lupin, but lacking his warmth. In horror, she realized there were claws coming out from the arms of its cloak. "If you're going to harm them, you'll have to get past me first."

"Why Hermione, dear," it purred deeply, making the hairs on her neck stand on edge. "If you haven't noticed, you've already harmed them yourself. Why can't I?"

"You have neither right nor reason!" she retorted, her strong voice opposing her shaking wand hand.

"And you do?" She could sense the grin that leered upon its hidden face. When she couldn't reply quickly enough, it continued softly. "You were angry and wanted retribution; there was no harm in doing so. It's human instinct."

"Then what is your excuse?" Logic. A ground with which she was familiar.

Its body turned fully to her before approaching. It wasn't a walk. It wasn't even humanistic. It was more like… Like a slither.

"What they do to you hurts me just as much as it hurts you," it purred, coming to rest only a foot away. It pushed her to the ground as though she were a mere toddler, her feeble attempt to protect herself and the other two dismissed as easily. Its claws gripped her chin and forced her face its shadowed yellow eyes. Warm breath caressed her skin. "I am you in so many ways that it is basically impossible, yet it isn't. I understand you. I can complete you. Let me be part of you."

Before she could protest, it bent down and forced its dead cold lips to hers. She stiffened and tried to push it away. The hold on her chin loosened and fell away, but its hand entangled itself into her unruly hair at the back of her head. She tried to get away from this monster, but again it forced her lips to its own. She whimpered in pain and angry frustration.

"Let me be your light that shines you through the darkness, let me be your redemption, your sanctity to protect your sanity; let me be your hope, your lover so we can feel one another deeper than with just words. Let me be a part of you, Hermione."

The claws untangled gently from her hair, but she did not yet try to move again. Part of her wanted to scream for help, to get away from this psychopath. Yet another side deeply contemplated its words. How much it was willing to give her in exchange for love? It seemed to be more than willing to love her than Ron was, but was it truly worth it? Was love from a stranger, no matter how great, ever enough?

"But I can't help you unless you put this on," it said, triggering in her something that made her relaxed and calm and willing to allow this somehow familiar person in. What was wrong with taking a chance?

But no! It would trick her!

It wouldn't do that!

It uncurled its fingers, showing her the bright yellow ring Ron had bought months before. A moment's contemplation passed. She snatched the ring and placed it on her scarred finger. Great waves of relief and happiness surged through her. A smile crept onto her face for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Mine forever?" it asked. Surely it held the key to her heart.

Her reply was just forming when the door burst open, admitting an enraged Eucken, with Lupin and Moody in the background. Like a tiger, her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pounced onto the infamous stranger. The cloaked figure was thrown against the wall as Eucken punched it, forcing the hood to fall back, exposing its once hidden face.

Hermione gasped at the stranger's pale and pointed features that oddly reminded her of a snake with ruffled, greasy-looking black hair. Before she could move to stop the two from fighting or even cast a protection spell around Ron and Lavender, someone grabbed her and threw her to the floor and under another large desk.

She caught a glimpse of Lupin before he crushed her body to his protectively. He wrenched his wand out of his cloak pocket, hissing at her angrily as he did so.

"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" His eyes were fixated on the open area before him, ready for a sudden appearance.

Hermione couldn't reply and only buried her face into his warm chest. He grunted in frustration and grabbed her unruly hair, forcing her to look into his face, though he didn't seem like he was paying attention to her.

"I don't know," she whimpered. "But is this bad?" Her vision was blurred in endless tears, her eyes weary from too many emotions. She showed him the yellow ring. His eyes grew wide at the sight, and he was about to speak when –

"There you are, love," the deep, eerie voice cooed. Hermione and Lupin turned their heads to see the stranger, his bright, yellow eyes and his neck craned in a way that was most inhuman. Lupin instinctively kicked at its head before shoving Hermione away. He yelled out to her hoarsely, "Run! For the love of God, Hermione, run!"

She didn't need telling twice! She climbed out from under the desk while Lupin was forced into a muggle fist fight with the weird stranger. She scrambled away, snatching up her fallen wand. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her out of the room of chaos.

She had no clue as to where the hell she was going. All she knew was to get as far away from the room as possible without leaving a trail for that creepy stranger to find. Her legs flexed out even more and she ran harder, her arms desperately pumping at the side of her body.

The dress she was wearing was becoming too bulky and too heavy. She stopped momentarily to strip it off. For once she was glad for wearing the silky white under-dress. It was light enough to let her run even faster. She continued on and on, even though she was developing a horrible cramp, until she reached the West Tower right next to the Charms corridors.

Thinking it an excellent idea to hide in the practically abandoned tower, she ran up the stairs until she reached the middle of it. She wasn't stupid enough to climb to the top and get herself stuck; that was just plain idiotic.

She huddled behind a large box crate under the stairs and cautiously waited. If no one found her, it was better to wait until morning before exiting it. She dreaded having to run and hide in the darkness of the night and the secrets that were being hidden… particularly around her.

After what felt like hours, Hermione gave in to her need to stretch. Her muscles were cramping from being contorted and squished between a crate and the underside of the winding staircase. Just as blood flow returned to her limbs, she heard the door on the floor below creak open. She froze. No matter how uncomfortable her position was, she would not move. How the heck was it – he – able to find her?

He climbed the stairs slowly. A voice called out desperately, "Hermione?" It wasn't the stranger. It was… Eucken. She peered over the crate to see he had stopped right in front of her, searching for any signs of her whereabouts.

She pushed the box away, startling him, and climbed out from under the staircase. Eucken looked relieved at seeing her and pulled her into a loving, almost fatherly embrace. She returned his affection, only a hint of hesitation laced in her actions. He let her go and gave her a wide smile, his face relaxing in the realization that she was safe from harm.

But it all ran away from his face as he took in the outfit she wore. Hermione blushed, realization hitting that this was her _professor_ seeing her like this. He actually seemed quite pleased with it, though, and she stepped back, recalling the fantasies the ring had conjured to torture his mind, body, and soul. This was _not_ good.

Eucken wiped the drool from his chin and began toward her. She squealed in fright and backed uncoordinatedly against the wall. Too late, she realized that was exactly his plan as he pinned her to the rough stone. Unable to protest for the second (or was it third?) time that miserable day, Hermione fought nausea as he roughly pressed his thin lips to hers, his jagged whiskers burning her smooth skin.

She moved to punch him as before, but he slammed her arms against her body and deepened the kiss with intense lust. Again she squealed, this time when his tongue invaded her mouth. He was doing things she never imagined, and she fought him the only way she could – she opened her eyes wide. Perhaps that would quell his mood.

But she could only see fire burning within him. His hands moved to her wrists and forced them behind the small of her back. Unfortunately, this only pressed her closer to him, exciting him even more. He delegated the submission of her arms to one hand and slid his free hand to her chest in a very non-student/ teacher relationship way.

Desperate, her jumbled thoughts fought to rearrange themselves into anything that would save her. Her weapons were now almost non-existent, her hands pinned, her legs pinned, his tongue assaulting her…. The thought clicked and she bit down hard on the lapping tongue. He groaned and slammed her hard against the wall to force her release. His tongue free, he cursed in pain while she fought for breath.

She tried to kick him, but he was too quick and slammed his body against her, against the wall. _Bloody hell_; why couldn't the walls be covered in cushions? If she got out of this alive, her back was going to be one big black bruise.

She opened her bleary eyes to see her salvation: Remus Lupin.

"Remus!"

Enraged, Lupin shoved the professor off her, throwing him to the ground. Hermione, without thinking, threw herself at Lupin. She clutched to him desperately, chanting his given name as though they'd been mates all their lives. She had to be sure he was real, that he was actually there to save her.

He did not look at her, did not respond to her praise. Instead, he only concentrated on taking his wand out and pointing it threateningly at Eucken, who was just managing to pick himself up out of the rubbish of broken crates.

"I though we were friends, Remus," Eucken seethed, painfully standing. He clutched at his shoulder, blood seeping down the length of his arm, staining his ripped shirt. "And now look at you! You betrayed me!"

"No. You betrayed me when you took it upon yourself to nearly rape a student!" Lupin snarled. Hermione tried to block out that word. Euken's gruesome face haunted her, and she could not seem to erase it, even with the calming scent of Lupin. She buried her head deeper into her savior's chest, desperate to drown out the next words.

"As if you knew anything!" Eucken growled menacingly. "Months, Remus, months! I spent them _dreaming_ about her! You try living with such dreams, having to have to see their subject day in and out, but act the good little boy. Look, but not touch!"

"Do you actually think this was easy for me? I defended you when McGonagall made Alastor and I watch you! Of course, I wasn't the one who was supposed to act upon it, only Alastor could. I was supposed to just watch you and report every time Alastor had to tell you to behave. Now I know I should have taken the job more seriously, rather than be there for you, listen to you, support you…"

"You have no idea what it feels like! None whatsoever! And I thought we could be good friends. Now you ruin the only thing I desire in this insane world! I had my taste of the forbidden fruit, god-bloody-damn it, and I want more!" He was crazed, insane. Just then, Hermione could feel someone ruggedly grab her upper arm and drag her away from Lupin. Lupin swiftly grabbed her other arm. She cried out in pain as the two tugged on her endlessly like she was some worn out rag doll.

She tried to aid Lupin, setting her feet against Eucken and backing toward Lupin. But she didn't get far. A ripping pain gripped her waist tightly and she screamed in pure agony. She could feel a burning sensation creeping up her body while blood seeped into her white under-dress. Looking down, she felt like throwing up at the sickening sight of long, razor-sharp claws embedded into her flesh. The claws deepened, tightened.

Before Hermione knew what was going on, she was tugged easily into the darkness of the shadows. Her two professors rushed toward her, their grips having been lost by the shadow's tug. Hermione cried out again in horror, reaching out for one of them – either one – to recapture her. Then all fell to blackness.

Silence. Her eyes opened to see nothing but blackness and peace, a peace that could not be obtained from such a world as she was living in moments before.

For a moment she relaxed, enjoying the sensation of floating in the darkness of the shadows of magic. Her eyes searched about for something, anything, besides herself. Her dress peacefully drifted with her. With immense relief, she realized the claws were gone, yet the blood that stained her gown and skin was still present. A pleased smile formed on her face and she wrapped her arms around herself. Her hair floated with her in the non-existent breeze. She spread her legs about, feeling as light as a feather and enjoying the lull before the storm she knew was bound to happen.

It did. Claws snatched her arm like a striking snake. She was forced her out of the tranquil environment of the blackness and into the depths of her freezing cold Head Girl room, and wheeled around. Towering before her was the shadowed stranger, his steel-like grip on her arm. Though she struggled viciously, he shoved her easily onto the bed. She physically and mentally froze as he walked toward her.

His blank, ghostly white face clashed against the darkness of his hair and his bright yellow eyes. He did not show any signs of anger, regret, remorse, or happiness in seeing her. She only wished he would not do what Eucken was implying through his actions before.

His boots squeaked against the wooden floor. She shivered and sat up, intending to crawl away from him. Her pride dictated she would not go down without a fight.

"Lovely Hermione, why do you fear me?" he purred menacingly as his long, bony hands, now clawless, grabbed roughly at her unruly hair before she could slip off the bed. He forced her fearful eyes to look into his. "I am neither a baboon like your precious professor nor the stubbornly stupid ex-professor. The werewolf… I will not say to give him the courtesy of his privacy for he is far stronger than Eucken and will give me the challenge I crave.

"Which reminds me," the stranger continued as he let her hair go and place his flat, deadly cold palm onto the valley of her breasts. She blushed deeply in embarrassment. He once again pushed her forcefully to the bed. "I will punish your professor for doing what he was doing to you. Will that keep you satisfied? Or do you want Weasley's punishment first? I understand what it's like to feel betrayed…"

"What-?" Hermione began stupidly. But he raised his palm to silence her. His mere fingertips held her down. She felt she would throw up, her head dizzy from blood loss. She tried to grab his hand and force it off her flesh. "N-no! Leave Ron out of this! Don't hurt Eucken either… _please_…"

He leered at her with an evil grin as he, very inhuman-like, climbed onto the bed and over her body, trapping her to the bed while his cloak covered their bodies. He kept his hand on her chest to pin her down, and she feared the worst. The audacity of him to rape her in her own room! He talked about challenge, but she was injured, could not fight back properly. Where was the challenge in that?

Her negative thoughts didn't dissipate as he leaned his head closer towards hers; it made her whimper in anguish and brace herself for the pain to come.

"Don't think I will do everything you wish me to do," he hissed venomously, snatching a clump of her frizzy hair and pressing his other hand down onto her injured stomach. A pained whimper escaped her mouth and tears threatened to spill. "That was your punishment for betraying me. I suggest you do not do it again or I will have to do much…worse…"

His glance at her trembling body made her shiver with trepidation. He fixated his bright yellow eyes onto her scared brown ones at her body's natural reaction.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't rape you." His voice was now mocking her, almost condescending. "You will have intercourse with me willingly. I trust you and you shouldn't take that for granted. You are and will always be mine. I will always be watching you. Always."

He placed light, chaste kisses against her neck, surprising her with his gentleness. As though reading her thoughts, he jerked the fist he held of her hair tightly, snapping her head to the side in agony. His calloused fingertips caressed the sides of her arms where bruises from Eucken were already forming.

Thoughts of Professor Eucken disappeared as she arched her neck against him, his lips having found that soft spot behind her ears. It made her weak in her knees; she felt like putty in his hands. A moan escaped from her dried lips, shocking herself. His tongue continued to lap along that same spot over and over again. Her petite hands found themselves gripping onto his broad, strong shoulders. The hand that held the yellow ring turned numb in absolute pleasure, adding to the adrenaline of wanting this psychopath.

Her frail body arched up towards his painfully before failing miserably and crashing back down onto the silky bed. Her emotions wrought, she whimpered again, fresh tears flooding from her eyes. He paused to look at her blankly. His yellow eyes helped her see the calm and bright side of him, strangely enough. The yellow reminded her painfully of the flowers she picked when she was little. The fields that time of the year were so beautiful and filled with yellow serenity and the light breeze of spring.

She settled peacefully back and continued to look into the depths of his eyes. The darkness of this man could be found within the blackness of his pupil, so she avoided it tenderly.

Her breathing became ragged. She embedded his facial features into her mind, his thin lips pink from his lovely actions on her neck, actions that she somehow found immense pleasure in. His black hair hung limply as though it was dying to touch her face, to tickle her unceasingly. His narrow, pointed nose barely touched her small, rounded one. It was an odd bliss.

But her sun was chased away when a black storm cloud came. He jerked her head back, drawing her lips closer to him. But then the stranger placed his lips onto hers lovingly, making her understand he was trying to teach her what the bad and good side of him was like and how she would be better off choosing his calm, serene side to his angry, spiteful one.

She couldn't help but run her hand lazily through his hair as his lips descended upon hers once again with more passion and grace than she would ever understand. All her books and research would never bring her that kind of knowledge.

His tongue was caressing and gentle compared to Eucken… Wait. Eucken who?

She hungrily tried to devour his tongue and engulf his taste, but he had stopped short. His attention had wavered to the wooden door, now rattling violently. He climbed off the bed.

He turned to her, hissing a leering, soft "pleasant dreams, lovely Hermione," and disappeared within the shadows.

She suddenly felt extremely tired, and could barely register the sounds of several people rushing to her bedside. A very familiar and calming smell lingered in the air. She longed to remember it, but her brain simply would not function and she allowed her thoughts to drift away.

"Quickly! We need to get her to the Hospital Wing!" a deep male voice barked. She felt warm hands search under her frail body then lift her. She was snuggled tightly against an incredibly warm and hard chest. Serenity swept over her as the soothing aroma grew even stronger.

Her eyes closed heavily, her mind and body succumbing to the magic of sleep. The inviting envelopment she recognized as Remus Lupin, and her defenses dropped in the trusted knowledge of security.

Yet again it seemed he was the one to save her from all of her monsters.

* * *

There, **twice** as long as normal! 

Ah, well, I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

_Questions, concerns, and more importantly **comments** all go to the Review Button which then goes to me. If that even makes sense..._


	14. Chapter 14: Introducing Micah Hallam

Thanks, as always, goes out to the beloved **Kimi**! I'm sure you'll all agree to her when she wrote the following : "_...although Ron did have it coming and Lavender is a ho._" :) And I'm terribly sorry about Eucken, mating seasons coming (I'm sure) and there's nothing I can do about him. I have no money to get him fixed, but I'm sure if I did have the money, no doctor would do such a thing. Unless I'm wrong, someone should prove it to me. I'd like to know!

**On a much larger note: **Micah Hallam can be pronounced several different ways. I at first recommend to say it as, 'Mike Hallam.' But, I've also learned that Micah can be pronounced, 'Mike-ah' or (a German girl's name) 'Meek-ah'. I'm not positive on this, but I myself say 'Meek-ah' in my head just because it's a habit. Call him however you want, I'm not going to be picky.

* * *

**Disclaimer - ** I do not own Harry Potter and Co. 

**Dedication - **To the **Poet King **and his **loneliness. **Does anyone ever tell you you think too much? Too bad you're too much of a moron for me to approach and tell you so. It's just sad to see your long, solemn face and wonder why I pity you so much.

* * *

Hermione awoke to a piercing scream. Surprisingly, it had erupted from her own sore throat. 

Tears blurred her vision as her body, physically exhausted, fell back down uncomfortably onto a bed that was stiff and unfamiliar to her. Once again she tried to sit up, only to fall back down. A panic flooded her and sobs began to flow through her worn out body.

"Miss Granger!" Madame Pomfrey cried out in exasperation. She pushed aside the curtains roughly; Hermione could see her frustrated and red face. "Will you please keep it down? You're not the only patient here, you know!"

As the nurse stomped away, Hermione, craning her neck, could see that she was, indeed, not the only patient in the Hospital Wing. Lavender was thrashing wildly in her sleep, possibly having as bad a nightmare as she, Hermione, had just had.

Hermione slapped a sweaty hand onto her face, hoping she was dreaming. Bad things weren't going to happen to her or anybody else…

'_What a ridiculous thing to say_,' Hermione thought to herself in irritation. '_Good and bad things happen to people. It's like me promising that there won't be anymore clouds and rain in London… Pretty stupid, actually…_'

"Miss Granger, so you're awake," Headmistress McGonagall greeted rather coldly. Aggravation flowed tight within her words. Stern eyes took in the young woman's appearance, and Hermione shivered. Lupin and Mad Eye were there, also, the latter's magic eye fixated on her in an uneasy stare. McGonagall cast a glance at Mad-Eye, but the Auror just shrugged and returned his gaze to Hermione.

The Headmistress continued. "Sources say that you had caused terrible trauma to Miss Brown's head, that you damaged a considerable amount of school property, and that you knowingly put on a ring of the deadliest form of Dark Arts onto your finger like it was nothing."

Hermione looked over to Lupin to see if he would dispute her accusation. At his blank look, she felt tears well up again. It seemed as if the trust she gave him began to spiral down the drain. He must have told McGonagall about the ring, for she told him when they were hiding under the desk…

"I'm sorry," she said solemnly, looking at McGonagall with embarrassing tears running down her puffy cheeks. "I had just learned Ron was cheating on me and…I – I… I _snapped. _I'm sorry."

McGonagall's face fell considerably and her hand twitched as if it wanted to comfort her and rub the tears away from her face. Moody snorted in irritation.

"It's still no excuse," he growled, his artifical leg stomping the stone floor with a loud _clunk_. "You willingly let that thing into this castle, so I don't want to hear your apology until this is all over and we're rid of that bastard.

"Do you even know why there are Aurors here?" Hermione shook her head. "It's because of Eucken and that thing! And do you know who let that happen? Hm? _You!_ I don't trust that Eucken bastard when it comes to you, but he's a damn good dueler! We can't let one of our Order members slip because of your foolishness!"

It looked like Moody was going to continue his rant, but McGonagall interrupted him. She turned to Hermione solemnly. A flicker of pain crossed her lined features.

"Due to the threat this has caused," she began while Hermione held her breath, "you are hereby banned from all social activities and educational classes. Just until the threat is gone, Miss Granger," she added hastily at the look of utter shock and injury Hermione gave.

Hermione felt like someone had taken out her heart, like she wouldn't be able to breathe anymore. No social activities or classes? No education? No graduation? No degree? No _exams_…

More tears fell and she let out a shaky breath, wishing her life to just end then and there. They were taking the one thing that meant everything to her besides her friends and family. The pain in her stomach had subsided, but she hardly noticed it. She just wished they would point their wands at her and end her misery. She didn't want to be living on the streets of Diagon Alley like a bum while others were dying in the war.

How bad could her day, week, whatever, get? First she finds Ron cheating on her, then her professor attacks her, and now she can't even get the education she worked so hard for? It was _absurd_.

"But," McGonagall continued urgently. "Someone volunteered the idea on the student body's behalfan escort for you. It's your choice whether you wish to continue here at Hogwarts…"

"Yes!" Hermione cried. She sat up enthusiastically, eager for any loophole to this new hell. McGonagall was startled and Madam Pomfrey, hearing the cry, paused at Hermione's bedside, forcing her gently back down into the bed.

"Headmistress, you should not put her under such trauma!" the nurse scolded. "She's suffered a great deal. Don't go frightening the poor dear with more threats and punishments."

"She'll do what she must," Moody growled.

"This is my ward, Mr. Moody!" the nurse snapped, rushing to him. "Now shut up and let me see to your arm!"

"You will do no such thing!"

"Just let her heal you!" Lupin's patience had run out, and he rolled his eyes. Moody threw him a glare that made Hermione flinch. "She's not going to shove poison down your throat."

"Shut it, Lupin!"

"_Anyway_," McGonagall began, breaking up the argument. "Since you agree," she returned to Hermione, "and Remus, since he volunteered, will see to it that you make it to your classes. He will, however, have to follow you everywhere you go because he is not allowed to leave you alone. When you need to attend to your needs, bathroom and etcetera, he'll see to it that you are with someone comfortable, maybe Ms. Weasley…"

"Alright." Hermione was grateful. An escort was better than having to retreat back to the Muggle world. "I can handle that." She glanced at Lupin, but he was preoccupied with Madam Pomfrey, trying to heal Mad-Eye's wound.

"Well," McGonagall said, "when it is full moon, most likely Alastor will watch over you. And…" Here she paused, careful in choosing her words. With a slight rush, she added, "Once you are physically improved, we're going to attempt to take the ring off by force."

She did not go into detail about how it was to be done, nor did Hermione want to hear it right now. Hermione did, however, have a few questions she would like to have answered. It was better to ask now than to find out painfully later.

"How did that – that _thing_ get the ring?"

"It seems it was taken from Fawke's ashes in Madame Hooch's private office where we hid it," McGonagall replied with a stressed sigh. She adjusted her wire-rimmed spectacles on her long nose. "After we had learned of your taking of the ring, I immediately went to her office, only to find it broken into, no doubt during that bloody stupid party…

"We did learn some information from Professor Eucken," McGonagall continued sternly. "Just so you know, this..._things_ name is Micah Hallam. Professor Eucken believes the name to be a fake. Your professor also told us that – that _thing_ attended Hogwarts a year after Remus Lupin himself. Professor Flitwick is researching him, but I doubt it will help us much."

Hermione began to process the information. She glanced over to see if Madam Pomfrey had finally been able to heal Mad-Eye, himself sending death glares to everyone who caused him the trip down healthy, medical lane. Next door Lavender let out a high-pitched scream, and Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall rushed to her side. Hermione felt a bit guilty.

"She'll be fine," a reassuring and calm voice said. She turned to see Lupin standing close by her, a warm smile gracing his weary face. "You did the same thing, and look! You look like nothing had happened to you."

Hermione touched her sides to feel the bandages beneath the ward's light red dressing gown, so colored for her house. She turned her head away from him, feeling slightly betrayed at him telling everyone that she had willingly taken the ring from Micah Hallam. She was irritated, even though she knew, in his position, she would have done the same.

But he did take care of her, he did protect her, and he was now going to have to watch her around the clock. Was she to stay angry with him when she was going to be cloistered with him at all times? Did he really deserve her disdain?

She turned her head back to see his blank face. His brown matted with gray stuck out to show he probably didn't have time to even take care of himself. And he was going to be caring for her as well after the holidays? She felt a pang of guilt.

"I wouldn't have been able to make it through the night without your gift," he told her as he dug his scarred hand into his pocket, pulling out the necklace with the Moonstone. A weak but somewhat cheerful smile crossed her face. "Normally I would be pacing like mad, but I'm not. So, thank you."

"You're welcome," she awkwardly replied. She watched him put it back into his pocket gently. "So, you'll be stuck with me, huh?"

He smiled, looking back into her face, his smile never faltering. "Looks like it."

* * *

It was pitch-black outside when Hermione awoke from her dreamless slumber to hear hushed voices. A groan of frustration rose in her throat and she wanted to hurl a pillow at them so she could fall back asleep, but when one of them spoke her name, she quieted herself and eagerly listened. 

"After Granger ran, that stupid bastard tried to go after her," a voice she recognized as Moody's growled deeply. "I tried a hex, but it seemed it couldn't harm him, so I had to use physical force to finally stop him. He touched my face with those slimy hands, and I felt like a dementor was trying to suck out my soul…"

"He did it to me, too," a softer voice added. Lupin. "I had to tackle him after he touched Alastor's face – "

"The bloody wanker numbed me!"

" – and he grabbed my face, too, once he was able. I think he went into our minds."

"A sort of Legimency?" Professor Sprout's voice questioned.

"Yeah," Moody snarled angrily. Several voices chorused, "_Ssh!_" After a moment's pause, he continued, albeit more quietly. "Where's that bastard Snape when you need him? Should have known…"

"Look, there's nothing we can do about _that_," snapped Madam Hooch. What was this, a hospital wing or The Three Broomsticks? Just how many people were here, gathered around to chat about her misfortune? "We have to prepare for that _thing_ when the time comes! What did Minerva say we're going to do to get that ring off of her?"

"Amputation," Moody growled. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. There was no way in heaven, hell, or Earth she was going to let them cut off her finger just to get a lame ring off of her finger, no matter how powerful or evil! She tried desperately to take the ring off of her finger to prove that they didn't have to cut her finger off. But unfortunately, it wouldn't budge.

"Surely there are other measures we can take!" Sprout squeaked. She was cut off abruptly by a loud groan echoing throughout the ward. "Edmund, go back to sleep! You'll need it!"

"Can't sleep," Eucken replied groggily in defiance.

"Liar!" Hooch hissed out venomously. "Go back to sleep! This conversation does not concern you!"

"Shut up! I'll go back to sleep when I want!" Eucken murmured irritably. A loud smack broke through the air. "Pomona, leave me be! I don't need another bloody quilt! It's too hot in here already!"

"Shut the bloody hell up!" Hooch hissed out in aggravation. "Someone'll wake up!"

"I'll check," Moody said. Hermione forced herself to uncomfortably lie down onto the hard bed, pull the covers up over her chest, and shut her eyes tightly.

Contrary to her intentions, however, drowsiness crashed upon her like a great tidal wave. She tried to fight, but soon lost the battle. Her last thought was the resounding question, '_Will they truly amputate my finger to save me?_'

* * *

Interesting little plot forming, eh:) 

I've not got much to say, I'm afraid, other than **THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS**. To me, I got a million and one reviews from the last chapter. They were absolutely marvelous, I must say.

How much harder would it be to ask for that in the future, huh?

Anyway, you know the routine all too well **review, please!**


	15. Chapter 15: Unbearable Losses

Thanks goes out to **dotdotdot**,** bane**, and **Kimi**! I would write more for you guys, but I have no time, unfortunately.**  
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Disclaimer -**I do not own Harry Potter and Co. I'd like to own it though. I could make foods like, 'Harry Potter: Breakfast Cereal' and a novel, 'Harry Potter: The Secret Relationship of Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin.' It'd be a best seller, oh, yes it will!

**Dedication -** to the kind **blonde** next to me who deserves not to be pushed into a bonfire as a joke, and to the **teachers** who deserve more than a five-day spring break.

* * *

"Wake up, dearie," a calm voice spoke, erupting Hermione from her peaceful dreamland – the total opposite of her currently stressful one. Groaning, she opened her eyes. Her head pounded and her stomach rolled nauseatingly. She felt someone help her frail body up into a sitting position against the wall of pillows around her. "How do you feel?" 

"Probably like crap," a male voice added humorously, a light chuckle intermingled.

"Hush up, you. Here, drink this."

Hermione felt someone shove a smooth, ice cold cup into her hands. Her fingers weakly grasped it and brought it to her surprisingly dry lips. After swallowing, her eyes opened up and with considerable clarity, focused on the two figures: Madam Pomfrey and Remus Lupin, both standing by her bedside with comforting smiles.

Once the nurse had gently taken the cup from Hermione, the younger woman felt for her left hand, since she couldn't feel it. She found it lying next to her side numbly, white bandages wrapped around it. Her stomach dropped and she screamed in fear. She began to thrash around in terror, forcing Lupin to pin her down as Madam Pomfrey scurried quickly away.

Hermione continued to thrash wildly around to release his strong grip. She was way beyond the point of tears and sobs as irritation and betrayal seeped through her, forcing Lupin to climb onto the bed to pin her legs down just to get a good grip on her wriggling form.

"What do you think you're doing, Lupin!" a voice snarled out in fury. Something roughly tackled Lupin into a nearby empty bed. Hermione took the open chance clamored off of the bed painfully, attempting to reach the exit of the infirmary.

She needed to get to Harry and Ginny… they would help her, unlike these insane people…

"Edmund, get back into that bed!" a voice cried out irritated. A tray fell onto the cold stone with a shrill echo, causing numbers of glasses to shatter. Hermione ignored it all, concentrating on each agonizing step to reach the exit of this hell-hole. Her hand, covered in white bandages, reached out for help with its four fingers as she began to fall to the ground from exhaustion.

"Miss Granger!" was the last thing she heard before everything turned black.

* * *

"She awake?" 

"Hard to tell when your arse is in my way!"

"Shush, Ginny! Madame Pomfrey will never allow us back in here if you don't shut it!"

"Then forget I ever said yes, Harry Potter!"

"Wait-what? No-no! Ugh, I take it back!"

"Now move your scrawny arse before I kick it out of my way!"

Hermione awoke with a groan, the arguing and nagging voices annoying enough to wake the dead. '_Ugh_,' she thought in aggravation, '_do I always have to be awoken by loud people when I'm trying to get a good night's sleep?_'

Painfully she opened her eyes. Guest had arrived. Goody. She tried to sit up, only to find it quite easier than before. How quickly did her wound heal? She could feel their wide eyes on her as she tried to flex her left hand to still find it numb.

"Oh gosh!" Ginny squealed in fright, echoing throughout the ward. "What happened to your hand?"

"What does it look like?" Hermione snapped. She could see in the corner of her eye that Madam Pomfrey, with a tray and numerous bottles, was making her way towards them briskly.

"Miss Weasley, Mr. Potter! What did I tell you?" the nurse snarled while carefully balancing the tray onto a side desk covered in baskets and little gifts. "If she was sleeping, you were supposed to leave her alone! If she was awake, you were supposed to notify me immediately!"

They began to mumble excuses Hermione couldn't hear. Her attention was focused on the spoon that was shoved into her mouth, forcing her to swallow the potion it held, much to her dislike.

After what felt like ten agonizing minutes later, Madam Pomfrey had finished her medicinal doses and, with a quelling glare to the visiting Gryffindors, turned and scurried away. Ginny turned to Hermione and bombarded her with questions.

"What happened? Are you alright? What happened to your finger? What are they going to do to you?"

Hermione gave her a glare telling her specifically to shut her glossed pink lips. Ginny's questions abated, and she helped Hermione adjust her pillows so she could sit up properly.

"They amputated my finger," Hermione replied bitterly. She wished dearly to be young enough to cross her arms over her chest and whine aloud. "Without my permission, _of course_, since I'm probably too _stupid_ to understand…"

"You're not stupid!" Ginny cried, rushing immediately to her side. "You're perhaps the smartest girl I've ever met! What _did_ Madam Pomfrey give you, anyway?"

"How am I supposed to know? I'm probably _still _too stupid to understand those adults and their actions…"

"C'mon Hermione," Harry said as he rolled his emerald eyes. "You _are _one of the smartest here at Hogwarts! You're bloody brilliant to the point of exhaustion." At this Hermione threw him a glare to which he quickly retorted, "But you're as intelligent as any of the Aurors or professors out there! Technically, you're an adult yourself!

"Who do I know who's figured out all those things I'd never be able to understand? Why you, of course!"

"Thank you Harry, but I _did _make the mistake of being tricked by that Micah Hallam…"

"_Who?_" Ginny asked.

"It's that thing's name that's been stalking around here. He gave me this." She showed her two best friends the bandages hiding the wound she herself did not wish to see. "But Professor Eucken believes that his name's a fake. Professor Flitwick's looking up his name to see if he attended Hogwarts and if there's any information on him that can help us."

"Wow, that's a lot of stuff you already have on him!" Ginny added enthusiastically.

"It's _some_, but not _enough_," Hermione told her firmly, sounding a bit like McGonagall. "We can use all the information we can get. It might help us understand why he's doing what he's doing and how he's tied to that ring."

"Maybe what that jeweler told you before you bought that ring is the truth," Harry added hesitantly.

Ginny gave him a look. "C'mon! Even Ron wouldn't come up with something as ridiculous as that. And believe me when I tell you that I've heard my share of the ridiculous that comes out of his mouth."

Harry continued. "It could be true you know. Maybe this ring thing _did _have a 'romantic' past to it…"

"The only reason he said it, Harry," Ginny said irritably, "was so he could sell the damn ring. Do you honestly believe that he could actually be telling the truth?"

"But it could be true!" Harry replied, gesturing his hands around to express his feelings. "But we won't _really_ know until Flitwick comes back!"

"If he ever does…" Ginny mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

An awkward silence settled between the two 'star-crossed' lovers. Just as Hermione was about to open her mouth to break it, the ward doors opened, startling them all with the clicking of brisk heels. McGonagall appeared by Hermione's bedside moments later.

"Mr. Potter, a word with you, please."

Harry left with McGonagall, a perplexed expression on his face. Ginny was left alone with Hermione, the latter full of questions. When Harry came back, he was going to have quite a few things to explain.

* * *

Ginny was coming less frequently to the Hospital wing ever since Harry left for a quick word with McGonagall. He hadn't stepped into the ward as of yet, and Hermione didn't know if he was dead or alive. She did, however, have Lupin to keep her company. 

"Are you reading anything fascinating as of yet?" he asked her one morning while she ate her lunch. Casually, he leaned back into his chair by her bedside with his hands cradling his head.

"Madam Pomfrey doesn't want me to overload my brain while I'm trying to rest," she replied painfully before blowing lightly onto her soup to cool it. "Or I would have my nose in a book trying to block out the pain in my hand."

He was quiet for a few moments and seemed to be deep in thought. She shrugged, took a glance at her left, four fingered hand, and took a sip from her spoon. Lupin broke through the awkward silence. "I can make a few arrangements."

Before she could question what he was going to do, he stood up and began to limp towards Madam Pomfrey's office. Limp? she wondered, curious as to what had happened to him. Oh, so many questions. She quickly finished her lunch so she could ponder.

The next day she awoke from her afternoon nap to find five thick and interesting books at her bedside. She felt like Christmas had comeonce againbefore picking up a book and beginning to read with a broad smile on her face.

She didn't notice Lupin hiding behind a curtain of another bed, a Marauder grin on his face.

A week after the books had arrived, Hermione had already finished them all. Now she entertainingly watched Lupin as he struggled to bring in what looked like ten books. He had a hard time keeping them balanced. Again he was limping, which didn't help his balance any.

After he had successfully managed to place the books onto her bedside, he sat with a relieved sigh onto the chair next to her bed. She tried to stifle her laughter while he, in his own amusement, watched her struggle with herself.

"So you brought me those other books?" she asked teasingly. A part of her brain tugged uncomfortably at her like an ill-tempered toddler, but she brushed it away.

"You caught me," was all he replied, a shrug of his shoulders and a small smile tugging at the corners of his thin lips. She picked up the top book and began to read, but soon noticed Lupin staring at the window with a blank face. She could've sworn that she saw his eyes shine from what looked like tears, but it all dissipated as he turned toward her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked him in a concerned, motherly way as he continued to look at her with no expression.

"I'm… fine," he replied hesitantly. She could see the wheels in his head churning up an excuse. "Just reflecting on the past."

It was awkwardly silent as Hermione never let her gaze leave his. It was as if the two were in a staring contest, forcing her to feel slightly stupid and look away uncomfortably. A thought hit her that hadn't occurred to her before and she turned to him again.

"Why are you here?" she inquired curiously. He only gave her a questioning look; apparently her question was a bit too broad. "Didn't you have a mission with the whole Greyback deal? Shouldn't you be underground with your werewolf brothers rather than here at Hogwarts?"

"Well," he began, his expression that non-concealable honestly he exuded. "Last year Greyback had spotted me when the Death Eaters attacked, and he saw that I was not helping his side. So, naturally, instead of having to go back and try to explain myself, which would probably have cost me my life, I never returned. Professor McGonagall thought it wise to save me for various reasons. However, I am a wanted man to Greyback, and the Headmistress thought it safer to keep me protected within the walls of the school until the war is over. Hogwarts has remained one of the safest places in the world, so…." He trailed off, the obvious left unsaid.

"Oh," she said, for once at a total loss. She looked away from his face, feeling slight pity for him. He was going to end up being locked up like Sirius, wasn't he?

"And, since I might as well tell you now before you ask me," he continued with more emotion in his deep voice. It shocked her to hear him confessing all of this to her. "Information leaked out that I had a," at this he shifted uncomfortably in his seat before looking into her eyes and continuing, "_partner_, and Tonks was ambushed by Greyback and his gang of werewolves during an Order mission and…" His voice softened and quivered. "…murdered."

Hermione squealed in surprise and felt her emotions swell up deep inside of her scarred soul. Tears fell and she quickly covered her face with her hands. Lupin settled right beside her on her bed and pulled her into a friendly embrace. She continued to cry for the loss of a very considerate and cheerful person, a friend, whom Lupin probably was just learning to love back. The pain dissipated from her mind as he began to whisper gentle things only he would think to say.

Interrupting the moment, a disheveled gray bird tapped groggily on the window near Hermione's bed. Making sure that she was alright, Lupin gently released her and walked to the window, opening it noisily.

The Weasley family's old owl, Errol, landed ungracefully onto her bedside table with a rolled up piece of parchment tied to its scaly leg.

Lupin sat on the bed while she carefully untied the letter with her right hand. Once free of his obligation, Errol took to the air, circling the room in search of refreshment. Hermione opened the letter and began to read, her brow furrowing.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I have some unwelcoming news to give to you._

_First of all, we, as in the Order and I, have found out that young Malfoy was planning to kidnap you back in August when you ran into him in the bookstore. His reasons are still unknown, but we have an idea that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was planning on using you as bait. We figure the most logical reason would be to lure Harry, but we are still unsure._

_Second, we, as in Molly and I this time, regret to say that we had just received word of our son's 'extracurricular affairs'. We deeply apologize for his insulting behavior._

_And third, we, as in the Order and I once again, have learned of the 'thing' which has entered into Hogwarts unnoticed. We have very little information on it beside what Professor Eucken has told us. I know how you tend to get curious, but this is one thing we adults must handle now. Not only is it difficult, it is dangerous and can put your life in jeopardy. Please do not feel the need to prove yourself for you are indeed very valued among the Order. If you have any information, please tell me so I can inform the Order._

_Sincerely,_

_Arthur Weasley_

Hermione was numb. She had spent too much time thinking about how she would live a life without her finger to remember Ron cheating on her. And "we adults"? She was of age herself, and had been for over a year. "We adults," _honestly_.

Her mind drifted, recounting the whole incident with Ron and Lavender in vivid detail. Losing track of time, Madam Pomfrey eventually had to pry the note from her nine fingers. The nurse had to also force open her mouth to give her her dose of daily medicine to would help her hand heal.

Hermione was laid back upon the pillows of her bed with her last memory being of Lupin looking at her worriedly. She spent the rest of the afternoon thinking and planning on what she could do with the rest of her life now that her old plans were all rudely demolished.

* * *

Ah! 15 down, a little more than 15 to go! 

I recently had a death in the family, explaining the early-morning post, and may or may not have access to the computer. I'm not sure what's to happen, but if you receive a late reply for your review from me, please understand. I've irritated my family members with the computer, and I'm not sure if they're going to agree with my standing on why I need to go onto the computer.

Please understand and please be kind and review. I'll really need it for the future.

Thank you. :)


	16. Chapter 16: The Enemy's Camp

Oh dear, you have no idea how awfully sorry I am! I did **not **intend to spend so much time away from the computer! Though I did say in the first chapter, as a warning, that steady updates would not happen, I am still incredibly sorry.

Someof my lame excuses is my wacky family made me see things that I never intended to think about, seemed to be down for a few days, I had to attend a funeral (mentioned at the end of the last chapter), and I made myself take the time to sit down and actually finish this story!

I will tell you that this story is 35 chapters long (well, you never know what could happen) and I am thinking about and plotting a sequel. I will also say that this story _will not be abandoned_. It's sad to read a review encouraging me to not forget and abandon this story. Believe me, I would never let myself live if I ever did that!

And I am so sorry my dear reviewersout there didn't get a reply back from me! I was so busy, trying to clear out my inbox that I barely had the time to reply (family members get irritated at me when I "hog" the computer). I did read them, and I will say to all _thank you for them and they **are** appreciated. They will always be appreciated by me, whether I get the chance to tell you or not._

Thank you for understanding,

Evil Cat Hater

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"_Micah, you shouldn't have!" A young woman squealed in delight, waking Hermione abruptly. "It - it's too beautiful! It must have cost a fortune!"_

"_I want you to have it Myra," a male reassured in a deep purr. Hermione wondered from where she recognized the deep and eerie voice. While he continued to talk, placing the elegant ring onto her finger, Hermione looked around her surroundings. She was very near the Whomping Willow, swaying peacefully in the breeze, oblivious to the three intruders. _

_Hermione noted that the female had on what looked like a very outdated Hogwarts school uniform. Her hair was glossy brown and fell into graceful curls down the slender curves of her back. Hermione wondered how the woman was able to do that to her hair. She doubted that she, Hermione, could achieve that without a good spell or two. She turned her attention the man, noticing that he, too, wore an old school uniform. His long black hair was messy and stuck up at the oddest ends, and he was very tall and skinny, not to mention as pale as the moon that rose above them._

"_Promise me you'll stay with me for all eternity," he cooed as the young woman, almost as if in a trance, grabbed his hand and placed it on her heart._

"_Micah, I'll always be with you – in your mind, heart, body, and soul," she replied honesty, her bright brown eyes shining with hope and joy. "Our baby will share the bond we share."_

_She placed her lover's hand onto her slightly swollen abdomen. Hermione, embarrassed, tried to silently slip away from this romantic moment, but the two turned towards her suddenly. Feeling a bit uneasy, Hermione began to back away. The man followed, his eyes wide. The woman simply stood thoughtfully, rubbing her stomach, a placid expression on her smooth face. _

"_Where's my baby?" he hissed as his yellow eyes bore into hers. Just then Hermione realized that this was the man who had made the others cut off her finger. "Where's my baby?" he repeated._

"_Well, I-," Hermione began hesitantly. She looked to the woman for help, her pleading eyes asking for intervention and leniency. But the woman began to dissolve right in front of her. Her flesh peeled eerily off of her body, her organs exploded unnaturally, and her bones fell onto the grass in a mound, then turned into dust. Only a ring, as yellow as his eyes, was left._

"_Where's my baby?" he roared, painfully grabbing her fragile arm in a strong, vice–like grip. "Tell me where it is!"_

"_I don't know!" Hermione screamed back in fear and alarm. She began to thrash her arm and body around to get his grip off of her. "Let me go! I don't know, but your girlfriend-!"_

"_Where is my BABY?" _

"_I don't know!"_

_He began to shake her violently. She whimpered and flinched in fear. He twirled her around, causing lights to dance uncoordinatedly across her blurring and tearing vision. Before she knew it or could recognize anything, she was being forced somewhere else, this time unfamiliar to her._

"_Then you'll be the one to make me a new one," he hissed in amusement. Hermione forced her eyes open and pressed her vision to focus clearly. Yellow eyes returned her stare; the rest of him was dressed in black. She looked at her outfit of pure white just as he grabbed her and began to drag her into a place unknown. "You will also make a good bride."_

_Before she could protest, he tightened his grip on her arm and whispered, "You are now mine forever, Hermione. Forever."_

--------------------------------

Hermione awoke to screaming. Disoriented, it took her moment to realize the screams were coming from her own mouth. Her throat throbbed in pain as her cries faded. A groan escaped her lips.

"Hermione!" a voice cried in fear nearby. The white hangings around her stiff bed were thrown open. They revealed a disheveled and sleep-deprived Remus, his blood shot eyes searching around for some sort of threat.

Fearing that Micah would come after her, (for she still thought the dream was real), she cried out his familiar and comforting name and latched herself onto his waist. He tried to compose her as well as himself, her sobs echoing around the room. She couldn't help but grip him even tighter to try to rid the memory out of her already scarred mind.

"Hermione, what's the matter?" he asked her gently, running his long fingers soothingly through her frizzy hair. Somehow his actions made her relax both mentally and emotionally and helped her to stop crying. She soon realized that her fear was caused by a passing dream and that it wasn't entirely real.

"I had a nightmare," she replied uncertainly, feeling extremely silly. Her face began to go red from the awkward position she pulled both of them into. She blushed as she realized that she just lowered her hands a bit more, how intimately close her hands were to him…

"You're awake now," he cooed softly. Her sick train of thoughts abruptly halted on its tracks. "Nobody can harm you now. I'll protect you."

His words propelled her deeper into his embrace, his thin frame unsteady against her barrage of physical emotion. Her legs squirmed vigorously, trying to untangle themselves from the sheets. Remus continued to run his hand soothingly, if perhaps awkwardly, through her hair like a silent mantra.

"Poppy!" A hoarse voice from somewhere in the Hospital Wing called out to the medi-witch. Remus withdrew his hand from the depths of her hair with such speed it was as if she'd burnt him.

"I'm here for my weekly checkup! Where in the devil's name are you? Remus, what are you doing here?"

"Eh, doing my duty to protect Hermione," Remus replied. Hermione detected the nervousness in his voice and reluctantly let his welcoming waist go.

Just then the rest of the curtains were drawn back and she flinched from the bright light blurring her vision. She could clearly see the smiling face of Professor Eucken. He looked even healthier than before with his five o'clock shadow gone and the dark circles beneath his eyes less pronounced.

Her blush deepened as, with remarkably bad timing, she recalled how he had assaulted her in that tower and even _fought_ Remus just to continue playing out his fantasies. She also felt very naked wearing the nursing gown that she was forced to wear; it was as though he was undressing her with his eyes.

"Good morning Miss Granger, anything the matter?" Eucken asked her pleasantly, the twinkle in his eyes thankfully now gone.

"Nightmares," she mumbled out, clearly embarrassed. It seemed was much more personal than trying to understand his behavior.

"What about?" he asked her curiously. His demeanor suggested the subject was nothing greater than a student asking a perplexing question in class. "Can you remember?"

"Yeah," she replied hesitantly, focused on ignoring his eyes and inching as close as possible to Remus. She needed all the comfort and support she could get. "A woman and a man were standing by the Whomping Willow in very old uniforms. The man – Micah, I believe – gave the woman a ring, and they made some promises to each other. The woman told him she was pregnant with his child, and then he turned to me, demanding to know where his baby was. I repeatedly told him I didn't know, and finally he dragged me somewhere and told me I was to be his wife and would make him a new baby."

She felt so silly and naïve for making such a big deal out of one _lousy _nightmare. She felt like she had third degree burns from her furious blushing.

"What happened to the woman?" Eucken asked intently, and Hermione looked up to see his expression. His once warm smile was gone, almost as if with the nonexistent breeze riding up her nursing gown.

"S–she sort of…err – began to _dissolve_…and the man wasn't paying attention to her anymore," she replied hesitantly, trying to remember all the details of what had happened. Eucken's eyes grew wide, and she had the sudden urge to grasp onto Remus for support.

"You called this man Micah?" he inquired seriously.

"Yeah, that's what the woman called him, from what I remember."

"What does it mean?" Remus asked him curiously, his brow furrowing. He was trying to understand what was going on. "Should I get the Headmistress?"

"No-no," Eucken responded thoughtfully. As though decoding the dream's meaning, he startled himself in shock and his eyes grew wide. "Bloody hell!"

He looked around the room anxiously then bolted out of it. Hermione wondered if this was how Harry had felt in his fifth year – out of the loop but the center of it at the same time. Did that mean she was a part of that Micah person? It might mean he was purposely sending that memory to her, most likely to confuse her…

"Did someone call me?" Madam Pomfrey asked as she exited her private office and made her way to the two who were deep in thought.

"Yeah, Edmund did," Remus replied to her, snapping out of his thoughts. "But he left."

"Whatever for?" the nurse snarled. It seemed as if a headache was coming onto her and she threw her hands up in the air in defeat. "Fine! If he does not wished to be healed, then so be it!" She stormed back into her office with the slam of her door.

"Well, Hermione," Remus said, making her turn her eyes onto him curiously. "You know now that Poppy is not in a good mood, so I'd suggest to not flare her temper even more."

"Why, have you ever done something to make her 'flare her temper'?" she asked him with a sly smile.

"Actually, yes," Remus admitted with a small smile before he made himself comfortable in 'his' chair.

So for the rest of the morning, Remus told her the story of when he was stuck in the Hospital Wing when he was a student, and, because it was after his transformation - always a painful reminder of his disease - his friends wanted to cheer him up. Being the troublemakers that they were, they had snuck in a rather '_harmless_', as they had called it, wolf cub from the Forbidden Forest and unleashed it into the nurse's private office...

--------------------------------

It quickly turned into a bitterly cold February, its dreariness tenfold by the aftermath letdown of the holidays.

A figure clad completely in black shivered near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Puffs of warm air rasped out of his mouth while his hands – both real and artificial – wrapped the old, worn cloak tighter around his body.

He shivered once again and tried to understand how he had let that '_oily, greasy head_' order him around. Everyone did; it wasn't like it was unnatural. It came with being a murderer, a follower, and a traitor.

Shifting his eyes around to make sure nobody noticed him and his lack of sneaking skills, he quickly gathered the cloak about himself once more in a little jig, hoping to cause some friction to warm himself up.

'_There isn't much to gather since its bloody damn winter_,' he thought to himself firmly. '_So there's no point in keeping my eyes open all the time. I might just need a bit of shuteye so I won't fall asleep during something important._'

Just as he made himself comfortable against an ancient, spiraling tree, there was a small, almost muffled '_crack_' sound one normally associated with Apparation.

"Get up, you useless lump!" a voice hissed angrily from within the depths of the forest. All of a sudden, someone grabbed at the figure's cloak and forced him to stand up fully. "I knew you wouldn't be up to the job… I'll have the Dark Lord know that you were slacking off, and I don't doubt that this isn't the first time!"

"What are you doing here?"

A man clad in pure black stepped from the shadows, holding onto a chain that led into the shadows.

"That's none of your concern! We must go; the Dark Lord wants a few words with you on what you've supposedly '_gathered_'."

"Who's going to take up the job of my post?"

"Draco, of course."

"That runt? He couldn't do _one _mission, how's he supposed to take over my job?"

"Don't get yourself in a fret, you ninny," another voice snarled. A young male stepped forward from the darkness, his head bowed in the presence of the taller wizard. The chain the older wizard held was revealed its hold of cuffs that bonded the blonde boy's frail wrists. "And it wasn't my fault that things happened the way they did."

"Excuses, excuses, excuses!" the first figure chanted, his artificial hand pointing determinedly at the younger one in accusation.

"And you shouldn't be the one talking," the younger one spat out bitterly before the tallest of the three pushed the balding, short man into a tree effortlessly.

"Come now Wormtail, we wouldn't want to keep the Dark Lord waiting," he drawled out, his black eyes turning gracefully to the blonde. "Draco," he began as the younger figure turned, his head still bowed. "Do make sure that you don't fall asleep. I'll come back to fetch you for tea in a little over an hour. I'll ask Bellatrix if you're mother will be open to join us."

Draco nodded with no enthusiasm and shoved past the first wizard, causing the latter to glare forbiddingly. While Draco rolled his eyes effortlessly, his mentor magically bound the chains he held to a nearby towering tree. He then grabbed Wormtail and Apparated away, leaving the blonde to cry solemnly in peace.

The _pop_ of their Apparation went unheard as the two wizards appeared near a small, under populated village filled with little gingerbread-esque cottages.

The taller wizard let go of his companion and began to walk quickly through the snow-covered roads. Sighing in annoyance, the traitor began to run after the other in the desperate attempt to keep up with his long and powerful strides.

Wormtail finally caught up, his wheezes and pants testimony to his sad state of fitness. His companion gave a glare fit to scare a class of first-years but said nothing. They entered a small, private tavern closed off to the public. The sound of loud, barbaric cheers, and the sight of dull, ancient goblets being smacked together greeted the pair.

"Eh! Snape!" a rouge figure called out to the taller of the two. The caller waved his goblet around to gesture for the two to join their group. "More work? Why don't you take a wee little break and join us?"

Snape scowled and looked down upon the five or so males with scathing. Wormtail, however, greedily accepted the goblet offered to him. Snape's black eyes narrowed further and he sneered at the barbaric men, his thin, harsh lips curling with distaste.

"Unlike all of you, I am a busy man," Snape replied slowly, suggesting in his tone they were too dense to understand if he spoke quickly. His chin rose up above the others distinctly, as if the men were all peasants in his dark eyes. "It might be the reason why I'm never in trouble with the Dark Lord, right Avery?"

The rogue man threw him a rough glare and gulped down his meade. "Well, aren't we the well educated one?"

"I think that would be a bit…_obvious_."

"Run away and play with your toys; I'm sure the Dark Lord will _finally _promote you after all your hard work."

Almost evilly, Snape's eyes flashed with anger as his fists clenched for a brief moment. Avery, noticing the movement, flinched, expecting retaliation. But the dark man composed himself and merely sneered.

"I must say, for a man of your stature in the Dark Lord's eyes, you seem rather confident… enough to mouth off to someone like me." His voice grew even quieter, menacing in its soft timbre. "I at least know where I belong, and I may not be so well _qualified _for the jobs you're handed, but I'm damn good at what I do."

The men sitting around the dirty round table became oddly quiet. On the other hand, Wormtail, his eyes gleaming with joy, ignored them as if too naïve to understand their harsh words. He was too overjoyed with not having to stay outside all evening.

"Let's go Pettigrew; the Dark Lord has a few things he wants you to do," Snape sneered, grabbing onto Wormtail's cloak and shoving him roughly through the surrounding crowd. As the man covered from head to toe in black began to navigate through the people, the men at the table intently watched their retreat. A shadow of fear shivered across their features, then vanished.

The two walked through the maze of drunken people, oddly placed chairs, and rosy barmaids before coming to a back door that lead to the large, deeply placed basement. On their way down the long and narrow staircase, they could hear the echoed screams of a wizard being tortured. Every now and then, there were flashes of bright lights shining from the bottom of the stairs.

Finally reaching the basement, they saw before them a man huddled over in pain. Nearby, an insane looking woman was sending enchantment after enchantment at the screaming man. Far away in the shadows there stood a chair with a man casually sitting in it, oblivious to the torture before him. A snake circled ominously around another person, this one chained ruthlessly to the wall, her unruly blonde hair hanging over her shameful face.

"That's enough, dear Bella," the seated man called out in a bored tone. The black-haired woman stopped, her smile an evil grin. She stepped away from the main attraction and into the shadows. "Nagini wants to have some fun as well."

As if on command, the overly large snake slithered toward the beaten man. He watched it fearfully, his eyes wide with unadulterated fear.

With distaste, Snape watched the display in front of him. Pettigrew flinched, cringed to his knees and began to reason that the terribly harsh winter was better than this. His stomach rolled and he covered his ears against the man's screams, as the latter became the serpent's prey.

Snape drew Wormtail to his feet and pulled him forward to their master. The balding wizard fell to his knees again as Snape knelt as well.

"I see you found Pettigrew quickly, Severus," the man hissed out pleasantly. His blood red eyes bore into the dark man as he looked up at being called. "You can stand with Bella for a few moments. I have a few things to discuss with Wormtail myself."

Snape bowed his head in assent, stood and backed into the shadows, his greasy locks covering his pale face. The two waited patiently in the shadows. Bellatrix's eyes widened in eagerness at the new piece of flesh to torture.

Pettigrew whimpered in pure fear and shivered in the cold. The silence stretched out in a very ominous way. He waited, praying silently to himself.

"How… very disappointing," Voldemort said with a deep, lingering sigh. Legilimency had its uses, after all. It was dead useful for those whose coherent speech lacked the details the Dark Lord sought from his followers. "I at least would have thought that you would kidnap a stray student who might be foolishly wandering around, but it didn't seem to have crossed your mind at all. Pity.

"What sort of information did you gather, besides the fact that it is cold in the winter?"

The huddled figure flinched at his master's cruel joke and tried to remember something that he had learned. _Anything_ could probably be useful to the Dark Lord, but he realized he didn't _have_ anything.

"May I speak, Master?" Snape interrupted, his eyes peaking out from behind his oily dark hair. Pettigrew silently groveled a thank-you to the dark man, his labored breath the only sound from him. Voldemort slowly nodded his head in confirmation, and the Potions Master continued with a sneer, "I have obtained information after our last meeting in September; it seems Edmund Eucken took the position of the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."

"Wow, you really _are _obsessed with the job," Bellatrix added with a gleeful snort. Snape ignored her.

"There are things you should know about the man," Snape continued loudly, blocking out the snorts from the insane woman. He was beginning to grow quite annoyed. "He is a traveler and has bothered our Circle members in the pursuit of the clan of Vampires in the Onshore Valley. I believe he is also an Order member."

He paused, allowing the information to be processed. For a moment all was silent in the room, the air tinged with a blend of Wormtail's fear, Bellatrix's anticipation and the Dark Lord's scent of power. Severus continued in a quieter tone, his deep voice coldly melodic.

"But, he has a thing for women who are young with brown, curly hair."

Odd looks were directed to him from all directions. Bellatrix's crazed expression bordered on confusion; the woman chained to the mold-covered wall looked up from her filthy blonde hair to give the dark man almost pleading looks. No expression betrayed the man's thoughts, though Snape held the prisoner's gaze for an extended breath before breaking eye contact and continuing. Lord Voldemort was interested and his duty to his master must not be delayed.

"He _must_ have information on the Micah Hallam you are seeking. I have been led to believe during my research that the castle has been attacked by him. I believe Pettigrew will vouch that he has seen or even sensed something wrong within the depths of the castle."

"It's true," Pettigrew squeaked, trying to wrack for the information they were seeking. "I remember hearing some talk about something odd going on and how some students have been erased of their memory. I… I also remember an old professor woman mumbling to herself while she was gathering some plants about how, '_Edmund cannot seem to get a grip on himself ever since he's realized his love for her…_'"

"And whom do you believe he's '_in_ _love_' with?" Bellatrix asked critically, her eyes searching Snape's oily facial features for an answer.

"I've not yet been able to determine that," Snape replied, turning his eyes to the Dark Lord's red ones. "But he's been known to flirt with random woman after woman. I've been thinking deeply, my Lord, and I have come up with a plan to gather information. Eucken's bound to have access to information. Perhaps if we have Bellatrix act as a distraction… her talents in the seductive arts could be the opportunity we need to gather that information."

"Brilliant, as always, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed, Snape's name pleasantly slithering off of his reptilian tongue. "I might just consider it. I trust you know the weekend in which the staff is allowed to roam into Hogsmeade…"

"This weekend. In five days, actually."

"Good, good." Voldemort began to smirk, the expression faintly diseased as it stretched across his inhuman features. "Severus, please make sure Wormtail learns his… _new _lessons well."

At this, Snape stepped forward and roughly grabbed the balding man's cloak, jerking him upright with surprising strength. Bellatrix watched with amusement as the black clad wizard shoved the weak traitor up the stairs. The Dark Lord scanned the dark room, his red eyes looking upon the chained woman as she began to break into fits of solemn sobs.

He watched her, his expression thoughtful, before turning to his loyal follower. Without a word, Bellatrix returned his glance and turned her attention on her distressed sister. With a lazy disgust, she sauntered toward her imprisoned body. Voldemort, as though bored, left the siblings to their own and turned his own attention to Nagini, her extended belly full with blood traitor.

"_My dear Micah will soon realize his mistake of ever returning. His was never a talent of learning aught but how to agitate me. But his lessons are not yet over. Soon he will learn. Yes, soon he will learn. Right my dear Nagini?_"

The snake poked her tongue out lazily and hissed, "_Stupid boy_."

* * *

I'm sorry, once again, dumb me made a mistake: the first time I posted it, it was the wrong document.

Please ignore it (this is the correct edited version) and if the two reviews from before don't show up, I'm dreadfully sorry! Thanks to Kat, as always, who always points out my mistakes:) I'm so dumb sometimes.

And please let me know of any concerns you have about the whole Death Eater discussion. I tried to keep them as 'in-character' (I'll call it IC)as possible.

Review, as always! I **will **reply back to them this time!


	17. Chapter 17: Visions

I'm sorry if I seemed a bit...disoriented when writing an A/N for the last chapter (writing fragments that made no sense and putting up the totally wrong document). I was on some wonky medication for a cold and it was coincidentially the same day I wanted to post chapter 16. (Ever listen to Garbage's 'Medication'? It's exactly how I felt.)

On the other hand, thanks to all who reviewed! Especially **Kimi - **thanks, as always! How was your trip? Wish I could take a vacation :)

And, if you have any problems and have some questions for me, please tell me. I have no problem answering them, believe me. (And to tell you the truth, I kind of give some things away to those who seem to really care.)

Explanation for absence can be found at Chapter 1, where it's been all along. :)

* * *

**Disclaimer -**I don't understand why I can't own Harry Potter. I'm a great baby-sitter and I'm a big neat-freak! I would make sure the kiddos wouldn't watch R-rated movies!(Maybe except Hermione and Remus if the movie was about convincing the two of them to start a relationship with each other.) ...What? 

**Dedication - **To my poem for the man I've been attempting to get over for months:

_Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?_

_I want to tell you -_

_But I keep forgetting -_

_My love blocks my mind._

If you ever meet this asshole, please tell him that though I haven't found a bridge for him to jump over yet, I'm still searching. Oh, and _pull up your pants_!

_

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_

**Chapter 17**

**Visions**

* * *

"I found a record," Flitwick noted distastefully. Hermione, pretending to be asleep for what seemed the sixth time since entering the Hospital Wing, pondered what they were talking about. 

"I don't distinctly remember Mr. Hallam," he continued. "But mostly because he was a Grade "O" slacker. But now that I've read his whole record, I do recall him. But he only attended for five years; that's why it was difficult for most of us to remember him. But, if I recall, I do believe he was only a year younger than you, Remus."

Remus remained silent, ignoring the hint.

"Anyway," the old professor continued. "I remember a young girl he never left alone; she was in my house, actually."

"Leave the woman out of this," Eucken snarled. Hermione could hear the heels of his shoes _clunk_ from the ancient stone floor. "She's not important…"

"But-," Flitwick began in frustrated tones.

"Leave Eucken alone," Moody growled out, making Hermione flinch. She could just bet his odd electric blue eye was fixated on her bed, prepared to catch her eavesdropping. "Just do as he says Felix and continue."

"Fine," Flitwick bit out, harassed that nobody seemed to be on his side. "And that's pretty much it besides the long detention list and average grades."

"I told you there wouldn't be much on him," Eucken growled, continuing to pace back and forth in an irritated manner. "His name's fake."

"But he was Micah Hallam all throughout his years at school!" McGonagall protested sternly. "Normally people change their names _after _they leave school, if that's what you're implying…"

"No! He had his name changed _before_ he went to school."

"How do you know?" Moody questioned suspiciously. "You seem to know a damn lot more information than most of the other Order members do combined."

"It's none of your business!"

A strained silence filled the air. Hermione could just_feel_ the tension even without witnessing it. A few moments later Remus spoke up, his familiar voice calming in the verbal tempest of the night.

"Have you given Hermione's dream any sort of thought, Edmund?"

In the following pause, she could swear her heart sighed, her body tense with the same anticipation as everyone gathered held: Euken's response.

"I… I have, Remus," the professor replied hesitantly. "And I've drawn the conclusion that it was a flashback she had, one thatHallam sort of manipulated to fit to his benefit. I believe he is what You-Know-Who is like with Harry, from what I've heard. I regret to say that this is a lull before the storm.Hallam is more than likely planning to do something even more drastic to Hermione the next time he comes out."

Again it was silent as Hermione felt her heart race.

"Whatever might he do?" Professor Sprout asked, daring to know what possible answer Euken might have.

"He might manipulate her to make him an heir…"

"That's ridiculous," Remus said, distaste laced tightly in his words. "A thing like that could just use the Dark Arts to make himself an heir. Think! What does it actually _want?_"

"Hermione," Madam Hooch whispered. "You two watched him drag her to her room. He obviously is a jealous one. It might be why this Micah is particularly motivated to hurt Edmund mentally, emotionally, physically…"

"Well, he would be!" Flitwick cried out in irritation. "He had a lover before, and she-!"

"I told you to leave her out of this!" Eucken snarled loudly. If he wasn't careful, he'd wake the other students abed. But it seemed that only Hermione thought of that, as no one else was correcting the situation. If anything, they were all getting a bit louder.

"What is so important about this woman?" Moody said, aggravated now. "Eucken, if you have something you're hiding from us, you should tell us now!"

Agonizing minutes passed before the professor began with, "Well, she was-"

"Creevey!" Moody interrupted. "Get back to sleep before I turn you into a snowshoe hare! And make no mistake when I tell you I like skinning the fur off of scared bloody rabbits! Maybe sell off some good-luck feet while I'm at it!"

At that, Hermione fell deeper into her bed, hearing the drop of several more bodies hitting their mattresses. Apparently she wasn't the _only_ one eavesdropping.

* * *

"_I thought we were going to go rob the kitchens," a young male whined loudly. Hermione looked around, recognizing she was a very old part of the castle, specifically in a nameless corridor._

_Four males - all handsome - were walking pleasantly towards her nervous form. Not recognizing any of them, she backed up a few paces, concerned for her safety._

_The one who'd been talking had long, black, shiny hair with a very handsome physique and face. His bright blue eyes scanned around for his friends' reactions almost leisurely. Hermione couldn't help but become mesmerized by the sheer beauty he held._

_Next to him was another male, black hair sticking up in the oddest places. Looking like a nerd, his glasses were bound by Spello-tape, creasing at the bridge as he pushed them back towards his dull hazel eyes. But there was an air of arrogance about him that belied his appearance._

_On the end of the row walked a short, chubby boy with blonde hair laid flat against his head. His hands were smudged with dirt, giving him a farm-lad description. His demeanor seemed weak, subservient._

_The tallest of the four kept pace between Dirty Hands and Arrogant Nerd Boy. He looked weightless and gangly next to the others. His light brown hair feathered out softly, and specks of freckles dotted on his pointed, wolfish nose._

'What is going on?_' Hermione asked herself uncertainly before realizing she was standing in the middle of the corridor they were traipsing down. She glanced around nervously, seeking an alcove or classroom in which to hide. She was out of luck, it seemed. In her way-too-short-for-her-liking skirt, she was trapped before the strangers, her self-consciousness rising to a whole new level._

_She plastered her face to her hands to hide herever-growing blush. Curse her own body!_

_Just then, three shadows quickly sprinted from behind the four men walking toward her. One was quicker than the others and went unnoticed by the four as it passed right by them and headed straight for her._

_Fearing the worst as she saw yellow eyes, she wheeled around and began to run as fast as she could. Something painfully grabbed her waist and slammed her roughly into the stone wall. Before she could scream for help, the figure shoved her head around so she could look at the four men, still casually walking down the corridor. _

_Suddenly, the two figures that were running behind them before suddenly passed by them, laughing and calling out obscene things about Gryffindor House. Just as suddenly one of them tripped and landed painfully onto the stone floor. _

"_Regulus, you stupid wanker, I knew you weren't up to it!" the other called out gleefully before wheeling around as the other tried to get up. _

_Like lions targeting their pray, two of the four apparent Gryffindors pounced on the fallen enemy, his nose bleeding profusely. His partner in crime, on the other hand, grinned wickedly as Wolf Nose sprinted after him, his prefect badge shining honorably in the soft window light._

_Hermione's eyes widened as the culprit, rather than run away, darted toward the prefect with considerable speed. She almost closed her eyes for the two were about to collide. But before she could, the insane boy somehow jumped over his pursuer. _

_The latter was intensely confused, wheeling around to see the bright yellow-eyed boy was right behind him and now running towards Regulus, in battle with the two dark-haired friends. The "Dirty Hand" blonde merely watched with amusement and began laughing out loudly while pointing at the obviously losing Slytherin._

_The boy with yellow eyes was about to do something drastic to release his friend when a young brunette girl stepped into the corridor and called out in annoyance, "Micah! I thought you were done tormenting the Gryffindors!"_

_Hermione, with shock, remembered the name of the young man and realized that the girl was the same one from her previous dream only she seemed much younger. _

_Micah grabbed the girl's wrist tenderly, turned to Regulus, and called out, "You're on your own, buddy! So sorry!" He then pulled the girl of his obvious affections with him into the shadows before totally disappearing _

_The prefect watched in shock, his companions mirroring his expression at the desertion. Regulus, seizing his chance, pushed the Gryffindors off of himself and ran as fast as his skinny legs could carry him. But his escape went unnoticed, as the four were too busy focused on how the yellowed eyed Slytherin had made him and his girlfriend disappear into the wall._

"_Very interesting, right Hermione dear?" a voice purred into her ear. Hermione looked to see the yellow eyes peering at her as his hands held her to the wall. Oh, _he_ was still there. "Your dear Lupin realized who I was when he learned of my name, but never told anybody. This was the day I learned of my true powers, and how I was truly the heir of my father…"_

_Just then something clicked in Hermione's head; that prefect was Remus! He would protect her like he said he would!_

_Wiggling out of Micah's older self's grip, she sprinted to reach Remus. _Just reach out for him,_ she told herself firmly. _He'll protect you, he always will… he will make Micah disappear forever…

_Hermione jumped the last few feet, springing into Remus' unprepared arms. She could feel him surprisingly stiffen under her embrace. _

"_Remus!" she cried out, burying her head into his chest. When he said nothing and stood completely still, she chanced a glance to his face. His blue eyes registered total shock. _

"_Hermione, what are you doing here?" he asked her in utter confusion. _

"_Micah's after me," was all she could say. Immediately his arms wrapped about her tightly, protectively. He remembered!_

"_I'll protect you Hermione. I told you I would," he said comfortingly, running a hand through her hair.She had to resist thetemptation to purr, however."But look at me first." _

_She obeyed to meet his eyes, her own full of fear and worry. He sighed deeply, his expression reflecting a huge battle in his head. _

"_I want you to know that I will do anything for you. If necessary, I'll die for you, just to make sure you survive." His voice was hoarse and soft, yet his words echoed with sharp conviction inside her head. And as she looked at his much younger, youthful face, she had another strange temptation to do something odd._

_Kiss him._

_"It isn't very dignified to admit,"Remus continued as she attempted to block the stupid thougths from her mind.He's _speaking. _"Not here, not now, but please understand that I love you, whether merely as a friend or – "_

_But she never heard to what other extent his feelings may have run. Hermione was abruptly pulled from Remus's arms, jerked about and turned to look into yellow eyes. Everything turned dark and disappeared, including the younger Remus._

"_Let me go!" she cried out in agony as she felt someone grip her wrists tightly. She couldn't get away, couldn't run back to Remus._

"_He cannot always be there for you like I can," a voice told her angrily. "You stupid wench, you are not needed anymore on this night! Wake up!"_

_A slap bit across her face and she fell into the darkness that surrounded her…_

* * *

Hermione awoke suddenly to find herself held tightly, a hand running through her hair. She opened her eyes to see against someone's chest, and as she looked up she realized that someone was an older looking Remus. 

She blushed heavily, wondering why and how she had ended up in his lap, in his chair. But then the memory of the dream came back to haunt her, and she wrapped her arms around him for protection.

Still believing the dream was real, Hermione whimpered, her unshed tears unleashed upon his cotton shirt. Micah had grabbed her away from Remus so quickly and so ruthlessly. What would he do to her the next time they met? Would his jealously truly drive him over the edge?

She sobbed and hugged him even tighter.

"Please don't let him get to me," she whispered, curling up against him. Her head shook against Remus' chest, smearing her tears into the soft cloth. Her fingers gripped his shirt as though it was a life preserver. For her, perhaps it really was.

Remus shifted his position and Hermione panicked. "Don't leave me!" she pleaded desperately. "Please don't!"

Remus' response was predictable, though not what she desired. He calmly ran his fingers continuously through her hair, his other scarred hand soothingly stroking the curves of her spine.

"Why would I leave you?" he murmured as she looked up into his blue, clear eyes.

"Because he got to me and left me alone!" she cried out in frustration, stating what she found obvious. How could he not understand her? He was not comforting her in the way she wanted to be; to have him tightly hug her back and rock her back and forth while yelling out for this Micah Hallamto leave her alone. "He took me away from you! He left me alone!"

By this point she was screaming and crying out everything that was frustrating and terrifying her. Her fingers untied themselves from the knots she made in his shirt. Her fingers clenched into fists and she began to beat furiously against his hard chest, causing him to wince.

She continued to rant and rave at everything bad that had happened to her: Ron cheating on her; her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and his erotic andunnecessary (toher)desires for her; McGonagall's polite threats of explosion; the loss of her finger. She went on about everything else that she knew was stupid but couldn't help but make a big deal out of it now.

Strong hands gripped her wrists, ceasing her tirade. Rather than subduing her, she felt her fury explode. She began to violently thrash around in protest.

"Let me go!" she screeched, waiting to feel the slap and déjà vu from the memory of Micah. But when it did not come, she stopped and opened her eyes to find Remus looking at her with a blank face.

She felt her breath escape her throat harshly, scratching it roughly. Her blush arose when she realized she was straddling his lap. She had unleashed a side to herself that she had locked away for certain reasons. Her emotions were running high and wild from finally being let loose, just like they had when she'd found Ron and Lavender.

Remus pulled her down against his hard and bruised chest. She didn't protest but lay limply against him, listening to his heartbeat. His gentle hands continued rubbing her back comfortingly.

Once again she curled up into his embrace and felt the warmth of his body engulf her into a passive bubble of peace.

All she wanted were for things to be like they were before. How hard could such a simple wish be?

"I'm sorry," she murmured against him, feeling something blossom inside of her that made her stomach drop inside.

It was inevitable; something bad was going to happen. And she couldn't stop it.

* * *

**REVIEW!** (It's my call to action though I lack the skills to somehow minipulate a persuasive essay into this.) 

If not at all interested in this story anymore, you should at least vote for a very incredibly important voting poll I want to make:

Should I go to the asshole mentioned before in my dedications and tell him to either **a.)** pull up his pants before I do it myself _OR_** b.)** get a belt before I buy one for him?

It's incredibly hard, I know. It will devistate you day and night until you tell me. Choice **a **or **b?**

**Oh, you have to reply in a review to tell me. Ha! You're now stuck; you _must_ review!**

Actually, you don't have to do this at all. I just wanted to makea poll to see if I should create more for the future with this story. I've got to get you lazy readers involved somehow, don't I?

Much thanks and support!


	18. Chapter 18: Confessions

Ah! So many lovely reviews, I think I almost died from all the love! Well, not really, (the dying part) but you get the point. :)

Thanks goes out to the wonderful** princess** and **M03! **

_As for the voting, the poll goes as shows:_

**a** - 3

**b**- 3

**c** - 1

Choice c was made up by my fantastic beta. :)

* * *

**Disclamier -** I don't own Harry Potter and Company. I never tried for the lottery either, but what are my chances of my wishes coming true? 

**Dedication -** to **Dear Me**,a great friend of mine, and her newly posted story **My Mid-Life Crisis**. If you like Severus Snape and Hermione Granger pairings -- check her out! (Leave a review, of course -- be curtious, children!) It's beautifully written in Hermione's POV and her thoughts are so well developed I had trouble remembering that Hermione wasn't a real person. (Penname's in my favorite author's section.)

* * *

**Chapter 18**

**Confessions**

* * *

That weekend Hermione found herself accompanying Ginny to Hogsmeade. Remus was, as usual, following them to the village with his wand riding up the sleeve of his robe. She knew this because she had seen him hide it before they left. His stealth skills left something to be desired, it seemed. 

Hermione was feeling a bit uneasy as Remus and Ginny shared a pleasurable, friendly conversation about one of Eucken's classes. She felt like scratching her skin to rid herself of this feeling, something she really couldn't describe. It was something beneath her skin, something down deep and all over, and it wasn't pleasant. It was emotion, and not something she was quite ready to study in depth; some things were best left unknown for the time being.

She had purposely chosen overly large clothes for the occasion, hoping to hide beneath their bulk. She still wasn't very comfortable with herself. Perhaps that was why she was ready to scratch off her skin.

The loss of her finger was making her feel abnormal – almost like a freak that others would point and laugh at just because they could. Even with Ginny and Remus surrounding her, she still felt like an outsider – just like she had when Ron and Harry had ignored her in their third year. And that was just for a stupid rat. But now she'd lost a finger…

She shook her head, trying to rid the negative thoughts from her mind. Ginny had purposely asked her to come with her so she could finally breathe some fresh air and be able to have some fun. It _had _been a while since she had been able to relax.

They entered the small village to find it active with students browsing and shop keepers hawking their wares. They passed by numerous little shops and carts filled to the brim with glittering objects, each an article of indispensable use.

Hermione shivered; she felt like someone was watching her intently. Shaking the feeling off, she turned her attention to find that Ginny had stopped by one of the jewelry carts. That was merchandise she herself would rather avoid.

Remus was casually leaning against the wall, keeping a close eye on anybody he guessed was suspicious. Hermione stood by an open alleyway next to him, the warmth of his protectiveness engulfing her like flames.

"Anything catch your eye so far, Hermione?" Remus asked her politely with a comforting smile.

"Not really," she replied. She gave the village a quick glimpse to see if anything actually did interest her. "Even if I did, you'd never let me bring it into Hogwarts without confiscating it and checking it over for any sort of Dark Arts."

"That's true." He gave her a bright smile, tightened with the battle to restrain his laughter. He shook his shaggy hair as she rolled her eyes and 'accidentally' stepped on his foot.

"You're not very nice," she told him with a giggle. He replied with a playful step on her foot.

"How am I not nice? You're the one who stepped on _my_ foot!"

Hermione was about to give him a smart retort when she felt something sting on her head. "_Ouch!_"

Remus gave her a perplexed look and his wide grin disappeared. Hermione was about to speak when she heard a stream of murmured swear words escape somebody close by. She looked around for the culprit only to be greeted with an empty, dark alleyway.

She hesitantly turned back to Remus to explain what had happened.

All of a sudden, Hermione felt someone painfully tug her hair, pulling her backwards. Remus immediately grabbed her, securing her to his chest. His free arm darted behind her to arrest the perpetrator, but apparently missed, as she was thrown into Ginny instead. The girls fell to the ground, Remus tossing a quick _Protego _and barrier charm about them before he fled down the alleyway, giving chase to a dark figure. They were soon enveloped by darkness.

Feeling helpless, Hermione glanced about her, looking for any clues left behind. Her eyes lit upon a pair of bright silver scissors lying on the ground, strands of her cut hair nearby.

* * *

A long while later, Remus returned, his breathing ragged and his right hand covered in bright crimson blood. Drops dripped upon the pavement as his arm swayed like a limp pendulum. His pale, white face embedded itself into her mind; she wasn't used to seeing the werewolf so weak. 

Hermione cried out to him, her heart breaking at the sight. Ginny screamed in utter horror. Both girls threw themselves at the retraining barrier Remus had cast upon them to keep them restrained; both beat upon it, trying to break through to reach him.

Without warning, the barrier dissolved, and the two fell down to the stone cold ground.

Ignoring the burning sensations of the cuts on her hands, Hermione scrambled to her feet and raced toward Remus, Ginny loping behind.

Bystanders spared but glances at them, each privately choosing to remain oblivious. To ignore trouble typically allowed one to stay out of it themselves. But Hermione neither noticed nor cared if anyone paid her much mind; her concern was all for the man before her, weary and ragged. With difficulty, she ripped off a piece of her Muggle dress and began to wrap the cloth around Remus' hand to stop the bleeding. He gave a gasp of pain when she tugged harder than necessary to secure the cloth properly.

Sensing that she wasn't much needed, Ginny gathered the ominous silver scissors and stashed them in her bag. They would need to check them later.

Hermione continued to ignore Remus' protests to her care, claiming he was just fine. He was more worried about his wards.

"Forget me," he panted, grabbing her hand that held her wand. "How are you and Ginny? She didn't get to you, did she?"

"No," she replied irritably. He kept interrupting her magical triage upon him, searching for any hidden injuries. She was turning into Madam Pomfrey, wasn't she? "Did you get a good look at whoever it was?"

"That's not important," he replied, gathering himself quickly. "We must go back to Hogwarts immediately."

Before she could protest, he grabbed her arm securely and forced her to her feet. He turned to Ginny while keeping a strong grip on Hermione. The latter was beginning to feel like a silly little toddler misbehaving.

"Ginny, keep hold of those scissors and try not to touch them too much," Remus commanded. "Let's go before something else happens."

Remus' tug alerted Hermione it was time to go. They all walked quickly out of the little village, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves. And as they made their way out, they failed to notice Eucken… heading toward a trap.

* * *

Nights of ominous dreams about weddings and the past plagued her like a foul disease. Hermione was tired of it, along with the questions the students began asking about her finger. The little buggers had returned from Christmas break and were as curious as ever as to know how she had managed to lose her finger. 

Elaborate rumors only caused her to snap at everyone even more. She even had the displeasure to hear from one noisy fourth year that Remus and she were obviously lovers, as they never seemed to be apart for long. And that, of course, explained the loss of her finger, it having been bitten off by the werewolf in the heat of passion. Oh, please. It was enough to make her want to purge.

Her first return to classes after her three-week layoff went rather well, however, considering. Remus shadowed her like a pup, dogging her every step. No one seemed to take exception to his presence, though; in fact, it seemed everything had returned to normal. McGonagall still greeted her upon passing; Eucken gave her a kind smile and a nod; the Aurors all said hello; and her friends were all friendly with one another and herself. Either they'd all become brilliant actors, or everything was indeed back to normal.

She had tried hard to talk to Remus about what had happened at Hogsmeade, but he wouldn't tell her anything, claiming that she was still too young to understand. He was hiding something; she just knew it.

Weeks went by and Hermione still hadn't talked to Ron. Tears welled up in her eyes at the ever-present sight of Lavender and Ron's clasped hands. Her jealously raged and screamed at him from the inside, but her sorrow flowed through her veins and forced her to look away and escape as fast as she could from the scene.

Hermione hid herself in the library, sniffling behind a large book. She'd just witnessed a very public kiss between Ron and Lavender – something Ron had never done publicly with her. She was wallowing in her misery when she sensed someone approach.

It must be Remus returning from a book search, she considered as he sat down beside her. She ignored him, just as she always did. She was too used to him following her every move, watching her every interaction. So it was with no little surprise when she peered over her book to see not her personal leech but a sheepish-looking Ron.

Her intestines clenched firmly and she couldn't help but retreat even further within her book. It was too much to hope that he hadn't noticed her.

Her book was gently pulled out of her grasp and placed out of reach.

"What?" she asked him solemnly, continuously sniffling. Her fingers began to fiddle around, searching for anything interesting to distract her.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Lavender and me," he told her truthfully. She snuck a glance at him to see he was the one now fiddling with his fingers. "I wanted to – before I could hurt you, but I… I couldn't," he finished lamely.

It was awkwardly silent for a few moments, and Hermione contemplated the matter a bit.

"And why not?" she asked him, almost daring him to answer. A part of her recoiled at the question, not wishing to hear the answer, but another part was sickly waiting for his feasible excuses.

"I don't think you'd understand," he hesitantly explained as he took a deep sigh and ran his hands through his thick red hair. "I didn't intentionally mean to hurt you, it was just that… I actually enjoyed running around behind your back. The thrill of it made me want more. It was the chance of getting caught. It's sick, I know, but it's something I myself can't understand.

"You were always next to me, it bothered me," he confessed. "I wanted some space. And when Lavender wanted to get back together, I wanted to, too, but at first I was horrified. I didn't want to put you through what you're going through now, but it just sort of happened. One minute me and Lavender were sitting in a cafe discussing Quidditch and the next we're in an alley, snogging…" Hermione winced, but Ron seemed not to notice.

"I felt horrible for lying to you at Diagon Alley when I told you I was going to see my brothers. I was actually sneaking off to see Lavender instead, but in the end I just dismissed it. I thought you would understand, but when I kept seeing you hurt, like when we were on the train, I felt guilty and tried to do whatever it was I could to help. I understand that physical hurt is far less harmful than emotional hurt, but… Anyway, I truly was going to break things off with you, make a clean cut. You know, make it less hurtful in the end, but a part of me wouldn't let me."

Hermione stared unseeingly at the stack of books on the table end, afraid to blink. The least little movement would set free the dammed tears barely held in check; their release would only turn to torrent rivers down her face. Still, she could say nothing and listened intently, unable to close her mind to his tale.

"Believe me when I tell you I'm sorry. Telling you all of this is one of the most difficult things I've had to ever do in my life, and I appreciate that you're listening to me now. I hope you can understand that I wanted no harm to come to you; you are one of my best friends and I love you dearly, but…" He sighed. "It felt like you were Ginny. It was like snogging my sister. At first, right after you got your ring, it was alright that I could pretend that you weren't who you are, but it got to the point where I knew it wasn't fair to you, or to me. It was like I was teasing you. I don't mean to offend you, but it was then that I understood that this…_us_… just wasn't right.

"I'm telling you this now because I feel I need to do so, and I am a bloody jerk for not talking this over with you before. I want you to be happy, Hermione. Really I do. I know that you can't be happy with me when I'm not happy. It's not good for either of us. Please consider this and accept my apology. I don't want you to be unhappy and moping around because you're 'in love' with me. You're not, and we both know it. When you're in love, there's something in you that will tell you so, when the time's right.

"I'm just a jerk, and you're a beautiful woman. You need someone who will treat you right and not go behind your back. You've always had the making of a talented witch, Hermione, so please don't give everything up because I'm not in your future portrait. You must understand that I still want to be your best friend for the rest of my life, but you need someone else who can love you more than as a best friend. I know there's someone who already likes you like that, Hermione; Ginny told me she overheard so in a teachers' meeting. So, maybe that will work out, you know?

"I love you like a sister, but you're not the one I'm in love with. Please understand what I've been trying to tell you. I know it's probably hard to absorb, and I'm willing to wait for your response, so please… take your time in thinking, because it's one of the things you do best, and come to me when you would like to share you piece of mind. Hopefully you'll still want to be friends. I know I do."

With that, he stood up, scraping the wood against the aging floors. She blinked.

Hermione couldn't stay in the library any longer with fresh tears washing her face. She grabbed her bag and bolted out of the library. No more did she care if Remus was trailing behind her so she wouldn't get into trouble. She simply ran as fast as she could, not caring where she went, only that she was far away – far away from there, from pain, from feeling a'tall.

She ran past the Aurors with record timing, knocked into at least five different students, and pushed on without apology or explanation. Those she passed looked at her weirdly, but nothing mattered. Her world was gone; she loved Ron Weasley and he didn't love her in return. She wanted to curse and stomp her feet and smack Lavender in the head, but she knew that wasn't going to change anything.

Her very heart was breaking as she continued to run blindly through the corridors. A sudden-appearing brick wall cut short her flee. That brick wall was a much-disheveled Eucken. She fell back hard, slamming into the flagstone floor.

"Miss Granger-?" her professor began as he looked at her with a puzzled expression.

She quickly scrambled up, sobbing loudly over his apology even before he could formulate the words.

Just as Eucken moved to comfort her, she wheeled around ran, fearing he would try to hurt her again like he had in the tower. She loved Ron Weasley, not _him!_

A weird sense of déjà vu swept over her as she knocked into somebody else yet again.

Her back cried out in protest as she hit the floor again. A gruff growl permeated her pain, blending with her own howl of injury.

"Watch where you're going Granger," Moody barked, scaring her into instantly scrambling back up. "Stop blubbering and help me up here!" he ordered from the floor before her, his hand outstretched.

As she reached out to pull him up, Hermione heard giggling and laughter nearby. She looked about only to see Ron and Lavender walking hand-in-hand, both with eyes only for the other. She was totally numb with utter horror and jealously.

All that could repeat through her mind was: '_I loved Ron first. I love him. I love him!_'

Everything came crashing down upon her – the irony of the situation, and the reality of it all. It wasn't a dream that Micah forced her to witness. It was real, and she would never be able to share her love with Ron. He was in love with another.

She backed up in fear of the breakdown coming upon her. She ignored the commands of Mad-Eye Moody. She ignored the chatter of the students who'd paused in curiosity. She ignored all around her. And she backed into something solid again. But she ignored that too, chanting again and again in her mind, '_I love you Ronald Weasley and you don't love me in return. I love you. I love you…_'

Then something snapped inside of her. She shoved the person she backed into away from her blindly as even more tears welled up in her eyes. Drained though she was, she gathered what was left of her energy and ran desperately to Gryffindor Tower and private sanctuary. She refused to cry.

People and places dissolved into shapeless forms and colors mysteriously blended out of distinction as she blindly escaped her world of reality. She needed a world of Ron's affection, a world of acceptance and friendship and trust and… and requited love.

'_I love you, Ronald Weasley. I love you, but you don't love me. You never have._'

* * *

Well? To **qwertynac:** I made sure Hermione wasn't going to cry in this chapter! Woot!

Okay, lovelies, time for another wonderfully exciting poll :)

_Should Ron be forgiven by Hermione for cheating on her with Lavender?_

**a.)** Yes

**b.)** No

**c.)** Or you can make up your own response like **R J Lupin's Kat** and tell me what YOU think

Remember, you have to **review** to tell me!


	19. Chapter 19: The Lesser of Two Evils

Thanks goes out to **Laura** for the review and vote in the poll!

_Speaking of the latter, the votes go as shows:_

**a** - 2

**b **- 7

**c** - 1

Much thanks goes out to all those that voted! I appreciate the responses dearly!

* * *

**Disclaimer -** Owning Harry Potter is far beyond my reach. As much as it pains me to publicly admit it, it's true. 

**Dedication -** To my own made up character (that actually has nothing to do with Harry Potter), **Sebastian **and his un-named at the moment love, **her corpse**. Forever, you two will soon dance in your watery graves as soon as I get off this computer and continue to write on my other, non-Internet connected one.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

**Memories, Illusions, and Nightmares**

* * *

"My Lord!" Snape cried, throwing himself roughly at the Dark Lord's heels with Bellatrix soon following, her sleek black hair covering her pale face. Voldemort made a gesture, forcing the two to stand up in front of him with their backs posed straight and stiff. There would be no way to tell whether the Dark Lord would like the information or not. 

"Bellatrix has gathered information from Eucken on the Order and Micah Hallam."

"Well, what did you find out?" The Dark Lord hissed smoothly, his bright red eyes calculating the two in front of him. From the sliver of a smile upon his face, it was easy to tell he was proud of them.

On the other hand, Pettigrew watched eagerly from the side lines, his real and artificial hands twitching within the restraints of the binding spell cast upon him. Next to him was a blonde, still gruesomely chained to the wall. She could only whimper small sobs and hang her head in shame.

"The Order is currently at Hogwarts," Bellatrix explained with an evil glint in her dark eyes. "They disguise themselves as Aurors, integrating with Ministry Aurors. It seems that Micah Hallam has managed to successfully enter Hogwarts."

"How?" the Dark Lord inquired, a thoughtful look on his featureless face.

"The ring."

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed in fury, tipping the lead domino in a chain reaction of his followers. Snape flinched but kept his posture straight and stiff in the dark; Pettigrew began to cower, hoping he would not be used to release his master's fury. Bellatrix continued to watch the Dark Lord with interest, seemingly unaffected by his anger; Nagini stuck her tongue out repeatedly as if savoring the taste of the fear in the air.

"Who managed to bring the ring in for him?" Voldemort continued, his red eyes closed in an attempt at calming himself down.

"Hermione Granger."

"Isn't she…Potter's best friend?" Voldemort inquired coolly.

"Yes, my lord," Snape replied, his face forming the sneer at his memories of her.

Sensing the Dark Lord had no more questions, Bellatrix picked up the inquisition as her master pondered this information.

"Eucken also told me that he's being plagued by nightmares involving Granger. And it seems Hallam brought the nightmares to him to torture him because he started '_falling in love_' with the mudblood.

"Hallam," Bellatrix continued, "has an odd fascination with Granger. It seems that he's been protecting her from Eucken and has been manipulating half the castle to suit his liking. He's also been sending Granger dreams of the past, which Eucken explained he heard from Granger.

"The Order, on the other hand, is having difficulty tracking Hallam down and has that werewolf and nutter Auror Moody looking after Granger."

"Is there anything else?" Voldemort asked leisurely, his anger hidden for now.

"Flitwick found Hallam's old school file. They'll soon find out about Simmons and question her sooner or later. Eucken, on the other hand, has been trying to make them ignore her for as long as he can."

"Well, it is only natural for him," Snape added quietly in a sneer directed at the pale, long face of Bellatrix beside him. His long greasy hair, growing out to new, undefined lengths, hid the betrayal hidden within his black eyes. He chanced a look at the dirty, sobbing blonde next to Pettigrew. "He'll want to protect her."

"How did you find it all out?" Pettigrew asked, his eyes widening and his hands twitching once again. "Did you corner him in an alley and beat him, or…?"

"No," Bellatrix cut in sharply, her sharp tongue causing Pettigrew to flinch in fear. "I had to cut off some of Granger's hair off to disguise myself; as I said before, Eucken is attracted to her. Severus had to buy some expensive polyjuice potion, as he didn't have the time to make it himself."

"So you went walking around, looking like Granger?"

"No." This time it was obvious from the royal sneer on her face that she was beginning to get annoyed. "I had to transfuse mine and the Granger brat's hair together so I achieved some of her characteristics and some of mine… after I added the hairs and drank the potion, naturally.

"I then went to a local tavern that Eucken had gone into, and after gaining his attention and talking to him, I made sure he was drunk. Next, I brought him to a room above the tavern and was able to receive the information from him almost effortlessly.

"Then I specifically Obliviated the afternoon from his memory."

Bellatrix left the room as if plagued by horrid memories of the past; Snape, sensing the Dark Lord too deep in thought to care, left the room as well, following Bella.

* * *

Hermione lay curled up in her sheets with only an extremely long shirt and panties beneath. Normally she would have scolded herself at the lazy and exposing outfit, but she was too stressed and upset to care. 

A chocolate bar was resting soundly in her numb hand, as her tears fell at the torturous thoughts that passed through her mind.

What made her any different from Lavender? Was it the fact that she didn't have ten fingers or the fact that she had something powerful adoring her…? What was wrong with her?

A loud sob escaped her, regret clouding her thoughts. A knock on the door broke her mental imagery. Moaning, Hermione rolled to the edge of her bed, its ruffled blankets kicked around in the process. She slipped on a pair of slippers from her first year at Hogwarts and trudged across her room. She grasped the doorknob shakily.

The door creaked open enough to reveal her intruders. She sighed. It was only Remus and Professor Eucken.

"What do you want?" she grumbled. She had opened the door just enough to reveal her sagging and red eye. They apparently noticed.

"Hermione, you of all people should know I'm here to watch over you," Remus said, stating the obvious with his kind smile. "Please let us in."

"Why's he here?" Her question was directed at Eucken, standing in the background. She didn't care if she hurt his feelings or not. It was too bloody bad, for Ron had pretty much broken her heart, and she'd earned the privilege of being grumpy and nasty to others.

"He's worried about you," Remus replied, his hands gesturing smoothly to make his words flow more evenly.

She shut the door and began to contemplate; she could open the door for them and allow them into her private crying session, or she ignore them, curl up into a fetal position and continue crying.

There was another polite knock. Hermione decided to let them come into the room, a room which she hadn't let anybody clean yet.

Hermione opened the door to let the two older men examine her disheveled state. Her hair was as wild and insane as ever, half hiding her solemn face beneath its uncombed tresses. Her clothes were not suitable for company; her eyes were puffy and sore from crying.

She could see Remus wince and Eucken's eyes widen before she trudged back into her room, leaving the door open. Not looking to see if they had followed, she crawled back under the silky sheets and searched desperately for her unfinished chocolate bar.

The door slammed, followed by creaks of her wooden floor.

The sheets were thrown back and bright light blinded her; she jumped up with a start. Grumbling swear words under her breath, she glared at Eucken as he lit even more lights. Remus held her blanket away so she couldn't grab it for cover from the intrusion.

Eucken brought to life bright burning flames, but she still shivered and continued to warm herself. Her shirt rode up her body; she didn't care. She only cared about pulling her blanket from Remus' hands, but her former professor held steady with no apparent effort.

"Give it," she whined desperately before giving up in frustration. She began to cry. She curled up into a ball and began to whimper for Ron, a futile request she knew, but she couldn't help it. Maybe he'd finally come to her and force the two to leave them alone.

Maybe.

"Here, try to put some sort of suitable clothes on her," Eucken said softly from above. She heard Remus' large feet scrape across the old wooden floor then his rummaging through her dresser drawers. She really didn't care and began wondering once more why Ron didn't love her like she loved him. It wasn't fair; it wasn't right.

Eucken spoke up with a bark: "Something's not right, I can hear something unwelcoming." Hermione stopped her brooding and listened intently in the deathly silence. She sat up and searched the room for something that would pop up and try to drag her into the darkness. Right now all she really felt like doing was hiding under the sheets and crying her eyes out.

Just then, Eucken groaned in pure pain and doubled over, clutching his stomach. In a flash, Remus dropped her clothes and took out his wand. Hermione, frozen from the sight, could only watch in utter horror as Eucken put his hand to his mouth and began coughing violently.

Crimson dripped from his cupped hand onto the wooden floor.

"Professor!" Hermione cried, jumping off her bed to help him. But before she could reach him, Remus caught her arm and dragged her away. "Let me go! He needs our help!"

"Something's not right," Remus repeated, more to himself than to her as Eucken fell violently onto the floor, blood still falling from his lips.

"Of course not! He's _sick!_" She protested angrily, pointing out the obvious before releasing Remus' grip on her arm. She began to race towards her professor as quickly as possible. Eucken, as if sensing her approach, looked up at her with large, dark eyes.

He held out his blood-washed hand, crying hoarsely, "Stop!"

Confused, Hermione stopped and watched him struggle to stand up.

But out of nowhere, something black tackled Remus to the ground. Hermione swiveled around to see Remus and a cloaked figure in battle, Remus armed only with his wand and strength, the figure with long, sharp talons. It was trying to gouge the werewolf, its intent seemingly upon his jugular.

Eucken continued to cough himself sick and try to stand, but was fighting a losing battle. Hermione, never having been in quite this type of situation before, watched numbly as Remus fought valiantly against his predator.

But as she rapidly ran through a mental list of possible resolutions, the thing on top of Remus turned to her with its yellow eyes and gave her a sloppy grin.

"_No_," Hermione breathed, frozen at being caught without any protection or plan of attack. She tried to back up. As though nailed to the floor, her feet refused to move. She looked to the ground; it was just her imagination. It had to be. Yes, that was it. It was her tired and stressed mind playing tricks on her.

But she was wrong. Utterly _wrong._

Planted into her petite, milky white feet and the hard, wooden floor were dozens of long, spiky, rusted nails. Blood gushed out of her injured flesh, staining the red oak a deep hue. She fell numbly to the floor, her feet still planted to the ground, and shrieked in horror.

Micah – whom she now identified – heard her cry and abandoned his attempts to murder Remus. He, with his long arms and claws, swiped an ugly slice across Remus' face, punched him in the stomach then turned to make his way eerily towards her.

She desperately searched the room for some help only to feel the blood drain from her face. Remus was groaning out loudly and feeling around for his wand; Eucken was scrambling to his feet, using the bed for leverage.

Hallam neared her, his energies focused on capturing her. But before he reached her, a bright green bubble surrounded her form, protecting her from his advances. It was like the one that had appeared in Hogsmeade when she was there with Remus and Ginny. Only this bubble was green and considerably weaker than the other. She watched in fear as Micah searched desperately for a way around the shield protecting her.

Glancing about, she realized that it was Eucken who had cast the shield. Relieved, she was just thanking Merlin for his intervention when Micah successfully thrust his hand through the bubble. Hermione let out a shriek and scrambled back, realizing as she did so that her feet weren't really nailed to the floor – it was just an illusion!

"Run!" Someone called out to her desperately, and Hermione turned in time to see Remus ruthlessly tackle the cloaked figure to the ground.

Seizing her opportunity to escape for help, Hermione scrambled up and raced out of her room and down the flight of steps.

'_Who do I look for to help me now?_'

She quickly reached the common room where Harry, oblivious to what was going on in her room, was peacefully reading a book about Quidditch. She suddenly realized there were Aurors and Order members about the castle and grounds.

"What's wrong Hermione?" Harry asked, concerned. He abandoned his book, allowing his eyes to take in her obvious distress and attire.

"Get help, Harry!" she cried out, feeling utterly helpless. Ignoring Harry's never-ending questions, she once again turned her head to see that Remus and Eucken, both on the girls' staircase, trying to hold Micah back with numerous shields.

Realizing they were giving her another head start to keep running away, Hermione turned around and dashed out of the common room. Once out, she began searching desperately for someone who could help Remus and Eucken now. As she ran, her eyes caught sight a few Aurors up ahead, chatting pleasantly about the weather.

Instant triumph swelled inside her. They were saved.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Kingsley's deep voice asked as she approached them.

"Remus and Professor Eucken need your help!" she cried, pointing frantically towards Gryffindor Tower. They simply stared at her as though she was mental, her disheveled appearance suggesting her instability. She took a different tack. "Micah Hallam's there; he's trying to get to me and hurt them! Help them, please! Eucken's seriously sick!"

That seemed to do the trick.

"Aldridge, stay here with Hermione! Rest of you, with me," Kingsley commanded. A younger woman stayed behind as the other Aurors raced towards Gryffindor Tower and the commotion.

Hermione watched them go, a sudden sense of release leaving her tired and spent. She'd done her part; the rest was up to the professionals. She turned toward her guardian, a woman unfamiliar to her. Before she could search her brain for recognition, the Auror with bright orange hair engulfed Hermione into her cloak.

"Pleasure to meet you, Hermione," she said pleasantly with a wide, pleased smile. Hermione, on the other hand, was too worried about everyone to enjoy a simple, polite conversation with the cheerful witch, and said nothing. Her silence was lost on the witch. "I'm Judy Aldridge, and I've heard a lot about you, especially from Remus. And from what I've heard, you're a very smart young woman."

Hermione simply wasn't in the mood to talk, but before she could point that out, an unfamiliar noise reached them both, and Aldridge stilled. Judy pulled her narrow wand out instantly, and Hermione noticed her smile disappear quickly.

As suddenly as the noise had appeared, it relented. For a full minute the two witches remained quiet and unmoving. When nothing further was heard, Hermione let out the breath she was holding. Just then Judy's body began to shake violently. She dropped her wand with a clatter. Her tremors didn't cease; it seemed that the Auror was having a fierce internal battle. Her head snapped back and forth and foam began to form from her mouth.

Hermione tried hard to think of what to do and why this was happening. As Judy continued to have her fit, the brunette realized that Judy had used her cloak as a shield for both of them. It was protecting them with magical powers controlled by her mind. If only…

To prove her theory, Hermione seized the cloak and threw it off them. Judy's fits ceased immediately. She stood limply, a dazed look on her face and foam dripping from her mouth. Hermione instantly grabbed the older woman's wand from the ground and searched around for the perpetrator. In the middle of the corridor stood Micah Hallam, a large scowl gracing his partially hidden face. His claws twitched as his narrowed yellow eyes focused on her.

"You're quite the protected and smart one, aren't you?" he hissed angrily, threateningly flexing his claws again. His yellow eyes watched her intently, and she could feel Judy's wand shaking in fear her own pale hands. "You can't beat me, you know."

"Then I'll die trying!" Sudden dread raced throughout her body like an illegal drug. What if he was right? She would be the one to have to suffer from everything! He would likely punish her for her stubborn rebellion, her blatant refusal of him.

"If you won't give in, I'll make you," he promised coldly. Hermione could feel something inside of her crawl from her chest to her brain.

"N-no!" she retorted stubbornly, aiming a hex at him to stop him from making good his threat. He, with his inhuman-like powers, dodged her weak spell and slid into the wall's shadows. A tangible silence fell. Hermione felt drained and exhausted all of sudden, and began to search the corridor with Judy's wand as light. Just as she decided the coast was clear and moved to help Judy, Micah jumped out of the shadows close to her.

Before she could jinx him, his fingers wrapped around her brain and squeezed painfully. She cried out with force, but its resonance was merely a whimper, a moan hanging on the tail of her voice. She tried to block out the pain, struggling to focus on freeing herself. Slowly the pain began to dissipate, and she could sense Micah re-appear by her side. A strange serenity washed over her.

"They cut your finger off because of me," he whispered placidly, tucking strands of her unruly hair behind her ear. She lowered the wand and relaxed. "They place bodyguards around you. They even dare to let you believe their horrible lies."

She stood immobilized, feeling numb and oddly apathetic. From the corner of her eye she noticed Judy, still standing with a dazed and uncomprehending look upon her face. Her mind was elsewhere.

"Why do you do this? Why am I so special?" She could hear her soft whisper laced with fear, and fleetingly wondered if Micah noticed as well. She felt his eyes search her face for some sort of explanation for her questions. "You're not even here most of the time so how am I supposed to believe you?"

"You haven't glued the pieces together yet, have you?" he replied as she turned her head to look into his bight yellow eyes. "I've been sending you clues. I've been giving you opportunities, but it seems you are too wrapped up in things that aren't necessary. Like that _weasel_."

"I love Ron," was her stubborn response. His eyes narrow angrily.

"If you love him so much, why did you let me undress you?"

A memory of the Halloween ball came floating into her mind.

"Remember now?"

Hermione was silent as she tried to formulate her response. She had to make him believe her… and make her believe herself…

"I thought it was Ron," she said solemnly. She tried to ignore the facts and not choke on her own tears. Ron would have never touched her like _that_… he would have never just left her alone at the dance and he would have never tried to take advantage of her.

Without warning, he gripped her face, his claws cradling the frame of her head, and forced her warm lips to his cold ones. Something exploded inside of her, something of raw emotion that she had never felt before. Before she could define it, his other hand gripped her waist and his claws slowly began to disappear. Her eyes widened as she felt her whole body ignite with a burning passion previously unknown to her.

Immediately her stomach twisted violently, the rest of her body following form. She clutched her stomach as he forced their lips; he'd sensed her body's reactions. Her hands burned, her stomach churned nauseously.

"Hermione!"

She turned her head to see Remus racing towards her, Aurors trailing behind.

As if it was a natural reaction, her body began to twitch and she rose up, stretched out her arm, and accumulated a sphere of heat above her palm. Micah gripped her shoulders to steady her. She could sense the leer on his face through his touch.

Hermione felt something sting her outstretched arm and a spell of some kind flew out of her hand, creating a huge barrier between Remus' party and Micah and herself.

"See that, Hermione dear?" Micah asked her with pride. She turned to him, her hand continuing to burn. "You are the one who is worthy of my time, my trust, my life, my love. I was right to choose _you_ to be my bride."

A strange sort of déjà vu passed through Hermione as Micah placed a hand on her head, his long, spidery fingers caressing her tresses. Calmness spread around and over her and darkness consumed her. And somewhere in that void, she realized that she was going to be emotionally stuck with something that had great power, something that could destroy… possibly even Voldemort.

* * *

Thanks, as always, goes out to my beloved readers and reviewers. You guys (well, mostly girls, I assume) are better than I could ever imagine! 

For this chapter's poll...

_What do you think Professor Edmund Eucken would be hiding, if he was to hide something?_

**a.) **His past relations with Micah Hallam.

**b.) **His **real **identity.

c.) Other. And remember to state what you think the other is!

It's the only thing I could think of to use as a poll.

Remember, to participate in the poll, at the least, you have to **review**!


	20. Chapter 20: To Stroll in the Moonlight

First, I'd like to apologize for the delay. What with personal problems and with the fact that I kept losing track of time, I could never get onto the computer.

Second, I would like to say that **I will _not _abandon this story**. It is already finished,and my beta still needs to edit it and such. She does a magnificent job, and it is _me_ who owns the responsibility for the blame of the delay.

And third, I noticed that I had wrote in the first chapter that this story takes place after _The Half Blood Prince_. Okay, so at the time I thought it was and I admit I hadn't of read the book as thoroughly as I had thought I did. So, this story does _not _take place after _The Half Blood Prince_. I tried to make it follow the plot line and I obviously failed.

Fourth, in the last chapter I believe I put the wrong title in the text than in the chapter scroll, as I like to call it. The chapter title in the text didn't fit in the chapter scroll thing and I forgot to change it. Sorry!

_As for the poll, the results go as shows:_

**a** - 8

**b **- 6

**c** - 0

Thanks goes out to **Jessica** (I sure hope I brought enough RL/HG love for you in this chapter!), **aliana granger **(I'm glad you love it!), **amber **(Choice A it is!), **princess (**thank you so much! Is this chapter as good? Choice A it is!), **Kimi **(trips, trips, trips...they make things confusing, don't they? And as for the whole 'everyone knows Hallam'-thing, well, I'm sure the adults and such would try to do some research on Micah (as I tried to bring out) and by 'getting to know him' through the research, or something of the sort.), and **me **(I'm glad you're excited, it makes me excited!)!

* * *

**Disclaimer** -I do not own Mr Potter. Ms Rowling won't allow it. 

**Dedication **- To the emptiness inside. It haunts. It hurts. It hates. But fortunately I know of something that will consume the vast space:

* * *

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. The bright lights of the Hospital Wing met her with undesirable gaiety. She groaned at its déjà vu. Was this what Harry had to go through every time he woke up here? She groaned again at the sharp pains in her stomach and her hands. 

'_How did I get here?_'

Just then bright red hair came into her line of foggy sight.

"Hermione, how are you feeling?" a decidedly feminine voice asked her compassionately.

"Ginny?" Hermione croaked, lazily rubbing her sore eyes. She looked again to see a now clear and beaming Ginny. The brunette turned to the other redhead to find a very ecstatic Judy, her brown eyes sparkling as they looked down on the patient. "Judy… correct?"

"That's right," the Auror replied cheerfully. She patted Hermione's hand comfortingly, painfully reminding the Gryffindor that it was the hand with but four fingers.

"Where's Remus?" Hermione asked aloud, visually searching the Hospital Ward. "How's Professor Eucken? It he alright?"

"They're both doing fine," Judy reassured her, before adding somewhat less enthusiastically, "Remus is being treated right now because the full moon's tonight."

"But Eucken's doing fine," Ginny reported, "aside from Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis of very impromptu tuberculosis." She glanced around and beamed at Hermione. "He's coming over here right now!"

Hermione sat herself up painfully. She watched Eucken sluggishly make his way towards her, a polite smile placed upon his worn-out features. Judy flashed him a wide grin as Eucken flopped into a chair besides the bed.

"Good morning ladies," he greeted as he looked at each of them. He turned back to Hermione. "Are you feeling any better?"

As he said this, he leaned in closer to her. Memories of their last few encounters made her uncomfortable and she edged back slightly. Before her professor could get any closer, however, Mad-Eye Moody came into her line of sight.

"Eucken!" he barked, causing the former to jump back into the seat. "Get back to bed before I get Poppy in here! It's my job to watch her now that Lupin's ill."

"I have every right to visit her," Eucken replied stubbornly. He leaned against one arm of the chair and gave the ex-Auror a look as if daring him to argue. "She is my student and I am concerned about her health."

"Concerned, my arse!" Moody growled. He walked towards Eucken, stopping right next to the chair. He pointed a scarred finger at him threateningly. "I'd hate to have to repeat what Remus told me he caught you doing to her in the West Tower. And I doubt Ms. Weasley would admire you quite the same if she ever heard as much."

Eucken, with troubled dignity, stood up, giving Moody the nastiest glare he could muster.

"You can't do that," Eucken replied with a sneer. His look turned smug. "I didn't do _anything_. You can't persecute me when I haven't done a thing. I only was checking in on the welfare of my student. Lupin would have done the same _exact _thing if she wasn't feeling so well _if _hewas still a teacher here."

"Lupin would have never tried to _rape _a student. He has control; he would never let himself have feelings for a girl half his age."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Eucken's retort was laced with malicious bitterness. He stormed out of the area as fast as he wounds allowed. As he retreated, Moody watched him intently, his hand clutching his wand.

"He's so proud," Judy added admiringly. Ginny nodded in agreement. Hermione, however, was less concerned about Eucken's pride and more about understanding his words. What did he mean about not being so sure Remus wouldn't rape a student? That he wouldn't affections for one? Remus, no matter what, would not stoop to the level of rape for any sort of sexual or even mental release, of that she knew. That left the latter.

"Shut up," Moody growled as he snapped his attention to the Auror. "You can go; I've got a handle on things now."

"I can help, too," Judy protested, looking a bit hurt. "I am an Auror, you know-"

"And I'm Saint Nicholas," Moody replied, taking a swig from his hip flask. Hermione had a sudden image of Moody walking around in a fur-lined red cloak, encumbered with a bag full of Dark Arts detectors and the _Standard Book of Wand Use_. She stifled her laugh.

"You don't have to be so rude to me! I'm a human being, too!"

"A stupid one! You were too busy flirting around to listen to a thing I told you about this Micah Hallam! And I _specifically told you_ that he is an excellent Legimens and would be able to easily get into your mind."

"Well, excuse me!"

"You should have just stayed in bloody Auror training and finished! You're not ready. I don't care if Instructor What's-His-Face told us that you were ahead of your class and '_developed your own style for fighting_', which doesn't even make any sense. You should have stayed-!"

"But I didn't! So back off, you stupid _paranoid _old man! Fine! I'll leave, then!"

Judy stormed away with her face bright red and her fists clenched tightly. Not knowing what else to do, Ginny gave Hermione a sympathetic look and raced after the fuming Auror.

But Hermione was too busy thinking to truly care that Ginny had left her alone with her ex-professor. So Judy became an Auror before she could finish training and was sent here? And by '_her own style for fighting_', the Instructor meant that she was unique in some way. Could it be her mind being able to control her emotions and magic unlike most wizards, or…?

Her train of thought was caught off when Moody noisily sat down in the chair she had mentally dubbed as "Remus'".

She lay back into the bed while thinking about Remus. Was he all right? What had Eucken's words meant? For the rest of the morning, she spent her time, for the first time in a while, thinking about the situations going on around her.

* * *

One she was released from Madam Pomfrey's care and the full moon had run its cycle, Hermione began to worry. Ginny was steadily beginning to occupy herself with 'catching up' on womanly things with Judy, alone. What would she do if the redhead, or even the Auror herself, wouldn't be able to escort her to the shower or to the loo? 

Her luck being what it was lately, her fears came true a week later when Ginny and Judy barricaded themselves in Ginny's room, giggling. Hermione had begged and pleaded for their help, but her attempts were in vain.

With slow, regretful steps, Hermione made her way up the stairs to her private room. Remus would be there, waiting to be released from his tour of duty.

He was sitting pleasantly in his chair, reading a thick book. He appeared so relaxed and at peace, but intent at the same time. She hated to bother him, but he noticed her immediately and shut the book with a quick snap and stood up.

"Time for me to go?" he asked as calmly.

"Err-not quite," she replied bashfully. She explained her dilemma in halting, hesitant phrases, her eyes never making contact with his. She glanced up and noticed he, too, had gone slightly pink.

"You can't take a shower in the morning when Ginny'll be free?" he asked almost desperately. For some reason this irritated her, and she snapped at him.

"_No_. I want to take a shower, and I will take it _now. _I waited a full day for that bloody woman, and she defies me! I am taking a bloody shower, _now! _With or without you!"

He flinched, but then softened his expression, rolled his soft blue eyes at her, and turned towards her.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get ready, I'll… be in… the bathroom."

He retreated in a rush as she could only blush and try to gather her clothes. She felt guilty at snapping at him and tried not to think about him being in the same room with her nude body – it was too intimate a thought. With a shudder, she gathered her pajamas and a fluffy towel.

She entered the bathroom to find him perched upon the toilet, deep in thought. Only when he noticed her did he offer her a 'game plan'.

"Get undressed behind the curtains and when you're done poke your head out for me to see that you're alive. I'll be in here, so call me when you're done and I'll give you your towel and clothes."

All she could do was nod and hand him both her towel and clothes. Reluctantly, she climbed into the shower, shut the barrier of thin curtains, and began to slowly and carefully undress. Even though she knew he would never spy on her, she was self-conscience of her eighteen-year-old body. Paranoid, she almost tripped when she saw her reflection in the tiles around her.

Out of nerves more than anything, she threw her clothes to him over the curtain rod to avoid any mishaps.

Once she had the shower going and began to relax, she began to wonder what Remus was thinking. Was he going to beat up Ginny because of her rudeness or was he going to adopt this idea, now knowing Ginny wasn't as reliable as she proclaimed she was? Was he annoyed with having this new chore assigned to him? Or did he feel more in control, better equipped to handle an emergency himself should it arise?

When she finished and toweled off, she faced another dilemma.

"Remus, I can't get dressed in here; it's all wet!" Quickly, she wrapped herself in the towel, awaiting his response.

His sigh teetered between annoyance and resignation as he threw back the curtains. Shocked, she stepped back into the corner, attempting to cover herself as much as possible. But his attention wasn't on her state of dress; he was focused on the floor, waving his wand in a successful attempt to dry the basin and walls.

"_Remus!_" she cried out, shocked. He turned to her and gave her a cheeky grin. "I could have been… I could have been – oh, you know!"

"Enlighten me," he replied with an amused grin as he reclined against the wall, his arms crossed upon his chest. She went red with embarrassment.

"How bloody dare you – I should slap you right now!"

"It was only a little bit of fun. It _was _quite funny to see you so shocked."

"No, it was not fun! What if my towel wasn't on me now?"

"That would be obvious; I would see your lovely body in all its glory." His grin widened.

Her face grew even redder and her patience thin. She smacked him on the shoulder and forced him to sit back onto the toilet seat. He was laughing loudly at his joke, chuckling even harder when she ripped curtains shut for privacy.

As she dressed, she couldn't help but wonder what he truly _did_ think of her body.

* * *

As February drew to a close, Hermione found herself sitting in her bedroom one evening, reading a library book while Remus, donning a pair of worn reading glasses, perused his own text. 

She snuck a glance at him; he casually turned the page and adjusted his legs. She herself turned back to her book, trying to ignore the loud rumble her stomach gave.

"Anything the matter, Hermione?" Remus asked her teasingly. She turned to him, clearly embarrassed.

"I'm hungry," she replied sheepishly, putting her book on a nearby table. "Will you get me something to eat, please?"

"At one in the morning?" he inquired after taking a glance at his watch. "I think you should go to bed instead."

"But I'll be up all night!" she protested with a huff. "Can't you just _please_ run down to the kitchens and grab me a piece of leftover cake and a glass of warm milk? I'm hungry, and the milk will help me go to sleep. My mother used to always make me drink it before I went to bed; it always worked."

"Fine," Remus agreed with a sigh. He placed his book and glasses down and stood up, stretching his long, lean limbs. "But you're getting whatever's leftover from what I eat."

"_Remus!_"

He quickly retreated from the room, a smile planted on his face. In a huff, Hermione crossed her arms and began to pout. Why did he always have to tease her when he knew she was grumpy, wanted to go to bed and couldn't, and knew she needed something from him besides protection? Precisely what, however…

His errand would take a while, so what to do…? Read her book? Get a head start on the upcoming Charms chapter? Study for the test in Transfiguration in three weeks?

'_So many things to do, so little time_,' she thought with aggravation.

An incredibly familiar and eerie voice whispered to her, forestalling her thoughts. She shivered and the hairs on her neck and arms stood up.

"_Hermione_."

She whipped out her wand, visually searching the room for any sign of the intruder. Not seeing anyone, she began walking around the room, sure she'd literally run into her fear.

Her heart beat furiously as she edged about, trying to ignore the creaking of the old wooden floor. She kept her eyes locked for only a few seconds on anything that was dark and questionable.

But as she was just about to rule it as her imagination, something grabbed her hand, forcing her around. She jabbed out wildly with her wand, but her wand hand was caught as well. She was forced back against the wall in a jolt, rattling the framed photographs.

Bright yellow eyes peered at her.

"Why must you fight every time I come to see you?" Micah asked, a hint of annoyance in his silky voice. "I'm not going to hurt you – unless you give me a reason to, of course."

"But-!" she started, trying to wiggle free. His grip tightened considerably.

"There is nothing else to say," he replied with a grin. "I thought we went over this before. And I believe you were more than willing to let yourself be mine."

She stopped wiggling and looked into his eyes. She did, didn't she? When he had mentioned her being his bride, she didn't protest; she'd let him do whatever he said he'd do.

"You _will be_ my bride, no matter what," he hissed as she tried to melt into the wall.

Noises from behind the door interrupted him. It sounded like two people talking, making their way up the stairs. Panic filled her; they would realize that she had been fraternizing with the enemy.

Her fear disappeared when Micah let go one of her wrists and turned to stare at the door. She was about to mention the probability the door was about to open when Micah, still gripping one wrist, drug her into the shadows on the other side of her room. They disappeared just as the door opened.

They exited the shadows only to find themselves outside in the bitter February night. Hermione began to shiver violently, wrapping her arms around her form.

"Here," he offered gently, giving her his large cloak. She gratefully accepted the woolen material and instantly put on. Just as she was about to inquire after his own needs, he gave her a reassuring smile and grabbed her hand again. "Don't worry about me. Just let me show you something."

She nodded her agreement and politely smiled at him as he began to lead her through the snowy grounds of Hogwarts. A thought came to her, nagging continuously. She whispered to him, "Where are the Aurors?"

He stopped, causing her to too, and pointed to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where there were several dark figures lie sprawled upon the ground. Assuming the worst, she was relieved when he added reassuringly, "They're only asleep."

She nodded hesitantly and he continued to lead her across the grounds. Her teeth chattered and her bare feet froze as they tread through the night, their destination unknown.

When they reached the Whomping Willow, he stopped and turned to her shaking form. Concerned for her own well-beings as well as his, she was about to warn him about the tree when he began to lead her to its trunk.

She was shivering in fear as the tree began its dance of swinging branches; Micah only ignored it and continued to stare at the trunk of the tree. A large, powerful branch set its coarse for them and her scream lodged in her throat. But he simply turned his head towards the branch and narrowed his eyes at it. It stopped abruptly, as though by command, and hung limply at its natural position. She watched in awe, too stunned to speak, even as he led her further into the tree's domain.

They stopped right next to the trunk. He turned to her with his yellow eyes and held up their clasped hands. He held her hand to the knot that immobilized the tree, and her body instantly seized up. Spots appeared before her eyes then it was all black. She was blind. A cry of fear rose but lodged in her throat, settling its metallic taste on her tongue as an image appeared before her eyes.

"_Micah, it's cold out here!" A very young woman in an old uniform with brown, curly hair shivered against her similarly attired companion. He, with his long black hair and bright yellow eyes, watched her with a pleased smirk. He turned towards her elegant form and rubbed the side of her face lovingly._

"_It's not that cold," he replied, placing his thin, almost blue lips onto her petite, pink ones. Hermione, wishing to see anything but the snogging couple, looked at the white scenery they graced. It was winter, apparently. And next to the entwined couple was the frozen Whomping Willow, icicles hanging dangerously from branches that had a mind of their own._

_The couple slowly broke apart, her cheeks flushed and his turning slightly pink. They walked hand-in-hand towards the center of the_ _tree._

"_Watch this," he said breathlessly before placing his pale hand on the secret knot. Expecting them to venture down into the passageway to the Shrieking Shack, Hermione was surprised when, instead, the couple stayed put and turned to face the outer limbs._

_The branches of the tree began to sway. They continued, increasing their tempo._

_Hermione watched as the branches reached towards the sky as far as possible and, as though possessed, continued to sway, a rhythmic beat driving them on. She stared at the display in awe; the young woman clutched the young man desperately and watched the tree, awestruck._

The couple and possessed tree suddenly disappeared. Blackness surrounded her vision once again. Then Micah appeared before her eyes.

Was that truly an illusion, or…? She looked up at the tree, trying to determine reality. Shockingly, she found the tree swaying like it had before, yet this time there were multi-colored sparks firing out of it. Her eyes grew wide at the display and she felt the hand pressed against the knot burn like never before.

She turned to him; his eyes were wide and an insane grin had spread across his pale face. He pinned her hand even tighter against the knot. She cringed in pain and fear.

But the event was short lived, however, as dozens of yelling voices echoed across the snowy grounds. Hermione began to as she recognized one of the voices as Remus'. He would never trust her again if he ever found her with Micah!

As though reading her mind, Micah grabbed her, dragging toward the Forbidden Forest. Staring at the fading sparks from the Whomping Willow as they went, she offered a silent message. _I'm sorry, Remus; I'm so sorry._

Acting a gentleman, Micah nudged her into the shadows first before following. They floated around in the darkness, Hermione only vaguely aware of her surroundings. What had just happened? Micah was actually attempting to be nice to her, and was that another flashback of his time at Hogwarts? Did she really hold powers unknown even to her or was he purposely increasing her magical power, (or even combining his with hers), to fool her?

Her thoughts abruptly halted.

The shadows had a mind of their own; they spat the couple out from the magical realm and into her empty, desolate Head Girl room. She scrambled up, dusting herself off as she darted to the warmth of the dying fire. Huddling as close to the only light and heat source, Hermione waited. She could hear the patient footsteps of Micah draw closer towards her shivering form.

He sat down beside her and lazily waved his hand, bringing the flames to life once again.

She watched the fire dance, feeling her cheeks burn from the warmth. His cloak dropped with a soft _thud_ behind her, yet she continued to stare at the fire. She could almost make out two lovers, dancing in perfect step, in tune to each other's thoughts. They danced and twirled without a care. She longed for the same thing, so much so it was almost painful.

"Hermione," Micah whispered gently, once again reminding her that he was there. "It's late; you should go to bed and get some rest."

She nodded in agreement and stood up with him.

"Thank you," she murmured, turning to go. He arrested her and pulled her back into him in a hug. His thin arms wrapped caringly around her. Weary and wary, she embraced him in return with as much heart as she could.

"I'll make everything work out for us," he said, letting her go and guiding her to her bed. As she climbed beneath the sheets, he watched her intently, his bright yellow eyes lost in thought. Then he wheeled around and disappeared into the shadows.

Hermione ignored the pang of loneliness his departure created and waited for sleep to come. As her bleary eyes began to close, she noticed – right beside her bed – a glass of cold milk and half-eaten chocolate cake.

* * *

If you have any problems whatsoever, please contact me by reviewing. Or, you can review and vote for my new weird poll, which goes as follows: 

_If you think you were able to guess what Eucken was hiding, then do you think you can guess what Micah Hallam is hiding?_

**a.) **Something that has to do with the memory mentioned in this very chapter. (Mentioned at this very moment.)

**b.) **Something that has to do with Judy the Auror.

**c.)** Other/Fill in the blank!

**Thanks to all, as always! Please feel free to review and send your thoughts and opinions; they are always welcome!**


	21. Chapter 21: Slippery When Wet

Hello ladies and gentlemen (if you're out there)!

Time once again for another chapter and another poll...

_For last chapter's poll, the results are the following..._

**a **_-_ 3

**b **_-_ 0

**c**_ -_ 0

(Oh, and at the end of my dedication, it was supposed to say: "_To the emptiness inside. It haunts. It hurts. It hates. But fortunately I know of something that will consume the vast space: **this website**._ For some odd reason they wouldn't let me put it in. Maybe because I spelt it out, I'm not sure.)

Thanks goes out to: **DemonDarkhart **(I'm glad you like the story, despite lack of fluff. I can tell you that there will be some.),** milady **(Choice A it is!),** Kimi **(Judy and Ginny can be, I'll say, right prats, but I'm glad they are or you wouldn't have your beloved "shower incident." What comes with the bad can besome good. Micah is actually being very good at the moment, and he gladly acceptscookies anytime.), and **princess **(I'm glad you like the Hermione/Micah pairing. A friend of mine is supposed to make an AU involving the pairing, but I'm afraid I'm not sure when that'll be.)

* * *

**Disclaimer** - Harry Potter hasn't been answering my calls lately. Jeez, just because our time zones are different, it doesn't mean he needs to get cranky when I call him and he says it's 2 in the morning! How am I supposed to know? And Harry, if you're reading this, look, I'm _sorry_, alright? I didn't know! 

**Dedication** - To the **reader** who is reading this right now.

* * *

**Chapter 21**

**Slippery When Wet**

_

* * *

_The flames continued to dance for some time. Well into the early hours of the morning, actually. 

That was when Hermione woke to find the fire still going and Remus sitting wide-awake in his chair. Groggily, she sat up to find not only him, but also Mad-Eye Moody and Judy in the room.

Moody looked angry; Judy seemed pleased, a smile planted on her face and her hands neatly folded together. Remus, however, had a blank, serious face on. He looked far older than he ever did. She noticed his hands were griping the arms of the chairs to the point his knuckles turned white. This was not good.

She knew she was in trouble, despite the fact Judy's cheerful disposition shined over the gloomy faces of the two men. She quickly rubbed her eyes and looked at them, an innocent and questioning expression on her face.

"Where were you last night?" Moody barked aggressively, his electric blue eye darting about the room and in the back of his head.

Never very good at on-the-spot faux excuses, Hermione hedged her answer, a stammering response falling from her lips. A pounding on the door saved her, and she turned to the muffled cries for help.

Judy ran to the door and opened it. Ginny Weasley stood behind it, sobbing and hysterical. The wooden barrier gone, Ginny threw herself at the lady Auror and continued to cry.

"What's wrong Weasley?" Mad-Eye snapped as he hurried over to the pair. Hermione cringed inwardly, fear freezing her movements to her friend.

"H-Harry!" Ginny cried out as more tears leaked out of her emerald eyes and down her puffy cheeks. "H-He needs help, _now_!"

"Aldridge, come with me," Moody ordered, turning to the Auror. "Bring Ms. Weasley and we'll see what the meaning of this is! Remus," he said, turning to Lupin, "stay here with Granger until we get back."

The three raced out of the room before Remus could say a word or Hermione could comfort Ginny in some way. They both stared at the door, worried and perplexed expressions draping across their faces. Hermione considered the past minute. What was wrong with Harry? Was he all right? And Ginny? Would _anything_ be all right again? Tears welled yet again. Hormones simply weren't helping matters.

For a while there was silence, only her muffled cries into Remus' cotton-clad chest filling the air. He was sitting next to her on her bed, comforting her as best he could.

Oh, Harry, what had happened to Harry? Did Hallam get to him because he felt that she didn't need her best friend anymore? Would any of them forgive her if they found out? Would Remus ever find it in his heart to forgive her if she told him the truth about what she did with Micah? Would he ever trust her again? How could he look her in the eye, comfort her like he did now if he ever knew?

The tears these thoughts brought on foreshadowed an emotional headache. She must have tensed, for Remus seemed to understand and rubbed her back soothingly. He sighed sadly, laying his strong, whiskery chin atop her bushy head. She crawled even closer to him and felt her tears slowly die. His hands stopped rubbing but held her closer to him. She pretended to sniffle to keep him close and let him think she was still crying.

It was silly; she was acting weird and so un-Hermione like. Why did thoughts of losing Remus bring on such tears? He was a great friend, yes, but isn't that how they had always been? What made her so special? What would happen with him once she left Hogwarts for the real world? They'd still be friends like she would with everyone else. Wouldn't she?

* * *

Hermione drifted through the halls toward her Transfiguration class, Remus ever watchful by her side. For some unexpected reason, she felt hollow inside. She wasn't still pining for Ron; for some illogical reason she had recently gotten completely over him. Maybe he was right when he told her she really wasn't in love with him. But if it wasn't that, then what was this _hollowness_ that had come to reside in her soul? 

They made it to the classroom with a few other students already there waiting. As they took their usual adjoining seats in the front, she glanced at the werewolf and began to wonder why no one had asked her about the incident with the Whomping Willow. Had they forgotten? Not likely. Perhaps too many other, more important incidents took priority. And what ever happened with Harry?

She took a surreptitious glance at Ron and Harry sitting a row behind her, and saw that Harry looked perfectly fine. He was smiling excitedly, his cheeks flushed, as he looked at something that Ron, his ears a bright red, was showing him.

Hermione, perplexed, turned back around and began settling herself for class. As she searched desperately for her quill, Remus quietly excused himself and moved toward the back of the classroom. Hermione gave him but the briefest of attention; she had to find her quill.

Just as she located it hidden between pages 738 and 739 of her Charms textbook, Remus returned, seating himself with a magazine in hand and a pleased expression. A quick glance behind said he'd confiscated it from the boys. They looked less than pleased themselves.

Giving Remus a perplexed look regarding the magazine, he merely rolled it up quickly and shoved it into his robe pocket. And before she could bother him about it, Professor McGonagall entered the room, taking House Points for not having their things out already.

* * *

"Quickly! Get in there!" Remus commanded in hushed tones, trying to shove Hermione into the girls' bathroom. He was staring about, looking to see if anyone would notice them. His chest pressed against her back as she tried hurriedly to find the door knob. It would not do to be caught in such a compromising position by a passing student. 

Wrenching the door open, Hermione stumbled in, Remus following close behind and quickly shutting the door.

"I don't need to go to the loo!" she hissed out, clearly embarrassed. "Why do-?"

"I need to tell you something," he said, cutting her off. A quick sweep beneath the stalls and a cursory door-kick to each insured they were alone. He turned to her to explain, only to find her hands on her hips with an 'I-Don't-Want-Any-More-Nonsense-From-You' look on her face. He sighed.

"Look, do you remember when Ginny came barging into you room?" he asked her seriously before grabbing her arms. She nodded hesitantly. She hoped he wasn't heading in the direction of what the bloody hell was wrong with the Whomping Willow last night. "Well, I caught up with Mad-Eye and Judy later that day to find that they didn't remember Ginny barging into the room or the Whomping Willow incident last night. Now tell me what the bloody hell is going on!"

"I don't know about the whole Ginny thing!" she replied truthfully. A granule of thought suddenly sprung up in the back of her mind. Déjà vu again.

"The train! I remember during the first prefect meeting of the year that there was something funny going on. Micah must have caused it and must have brought me to that other compartment!" Memories came flooding back to her with a new sense of understanding. "I remember waking and having everyone tell me that nothing funny was going on – they must have been _brainwashed_! Someone rid them of their memories!"

Remus' brow furrowed in thought. He let her go and began to pace throughout the girls' bathroom. He stopped, deep in thought, and stared unseeingly at the moldy water all about the floor.

"Hallam is excellent with mind powers," he said finally, breaking the minutes of silence but for the echoing of dripping water. "You can surely see that from the incident with Judy. He _must_ have done it!"

Contemplating the idea, she turned around to catch her appearance in the nicked and splotchy mirror. A haggard sight stared back at her. Her hair was mussed and knotted, her clothes disheveled and ill-fitting. Her gaze drifted up to see Remus' face, his concern reflected in the glass surface. She could sense his drawing near her…

Voices broke the moment as they prefaced the door's opening. She turned to face the intrusion. In his hurry to distance himself from Hermione, Remus slipped on the slick tile and bounded forward, slamming her bodily into the sink, his own form draping heavily against her.

A shriek resounded in the room, announcing Parvati's presence in the doorway, the Creevey brothers safely behind her in the hallway, peering in. Before Hermione could explain, Remus attempted to straighten himself, only to cause more damage as he slipped yet again, his head bounding forward and dropping his face between her breasts.

Colin's camera blinded Hermione with its flash, distorting Remus' sense of balance and forcing him to grab both the sink and Hermione for balance. Continually the light flashed; Parvati's laughter filled the moments between the shutter's clicks.

Hermione's face burned, but she turned her attention as directly to Remus as she could, attempting to help him regain his balance. She could hear him attempt to breathe slowly, to stabilize. Hoping he'd regained his feet, she tried to slip away from Remus and began to climb the sink to allow him slide to the floor and save them even more humiliation.

But, of course, it didn't work.

She was able to successfully slide up and onto the sink, yet Remus, now having chunks of soap upon his shoes as well, slid and slipped even more against her movements. This time, however, his chin came to rest upon the sink – directly between her parted legs.

More shots were taken as Remus gripped the sink and, finding a rare dry patch of stone, found his footing and stood, stepped back and ran his hands over his face. Hermione could see the crimson stain creeping across his pale cheeks.

"Oho! _Professor_ Lupin!" Parvati squealed in delight laughter. "I didn't know you had affections for Hermione Granger!"

Hermione _had_ to roll her eyes at that statement. How could the girl be so dense? Were they not still fully clothed? Did she look like she'd been kissed senseless? Did they honestly look like they'd been having a go at each other? Honestly.

"If you don't mind!" Lupin growled threateningly, scaring everyone, "I am not a professor anymore! Secondly, I only hold the utmost respect for Hermione, and treat her with care and compassion of a _friend_!"

"But you looked so pleased snuggled up against Hermione like that," Parvati added smugly, a smirk emerging as she gathered courage. "And since _when_ have you been on a first-name basis with her?"

"Always!" he spat harshly, clenching his fists and taking a step closer.

At the werewolf's tone of voice, the three scrambled out of the bathroom.

"I'm so sorry," Remus said softly, turning to give her an apologetic smile. "I've never been that clumsy in my whole life."

"It's alright," she replied in a small voice. Feeling lightheaded and embarrassed, she tried not to look at him. "But, I think you should have taken the camera away from Colin before scaring them away like that. You never know what they'll be doing with it."

All he could do now was nod, knowing she was right. It was too late to go after them now.

"Let's just go before we cause even more trouble," he added, turning around and heading towards the door. But at the same moment, the sink gave up its battle to hold Hermione's weight and collapsed, sending her to the ground with the marble rubbish.

* * *

Short, but I love it still! 

I'm not exactly positive for what to make as a poll (and well making it revolve around the story is quite boring to me) so I decided to make a rather really stupid one, again :

_Do you know of any person who looks like a Harry Potter character?_

**a.) Yes **(and please name the character of the Harry Potter series, I'm very noisy.

But you do not have to tell me your relation to them if it makes you uncomfortable)

**b.) No, crazy pants.**

I myself will have to vote A! (I know some really weird kid who dresses up like Johnny Depp, but when he doesn't, he looks like a rather young Snape.)

As always, thanks for reading, but to vote, you have to **review**! Now you _have_ to review! Muaha!


	22. Chapter 22: See No Evil Hear No Evil

Hello ladies and gentlemen, I'm glad you graced me with your prescene! (Sorry...great song, though!)

As for the poll...

**a **_-_ 4

**b **_-_ 1

As always, thanks goes out to everyone who voted! To the anonymous reviewers: **princess** **again** (I hope you love this chapter as well!), **Kimi** (oh, Remus slipped on _accident_, right Remus? wink, wink As for the Creevey brothers and their photos...you'll see!), **Jin** (I'm really glad you like my story! I'm sorry thatyour look-a-like Harry cut his hair...all my look-a-like Harry Potter characters do that and it really irritates me!), **Jessica** (Choice B it is! Ha, ha, a William Mosleylook-a-like! That very much amuses me, in a good way, of course!)

However, I'd like to give a big, huge, tremendous thank you to **R J Lupin's Kat**! She has taken this emotional mess of a chapter and made it absolutely wonderful I think I fell in love with it! Though I should be thanking her _every_ chapter because she deserves it, I'm sureyou, she, and I (see how much Ineed her help?)would get rather tired of it and we'd get the point. Plus, I'd run out of creative ways to say thanks. So, _THANKS_!

* * *

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Harry Potter. I don't think it's possible to own a ficticious person's soul. Is it? 

**Dedication** - To taking **naps** all dayso many times, everyone think's your ill,and the **poem** I wrote about "the king." 'I killed the king, magnificently I did.'

* * *

**Chapter 22**

**See No Evil; Hear No Evil**

* * *

The next week, now marked as the first week in March on her calendar, brought unexpected surprises to Hermione. 

On Monday she and Remus were walking down to breakfast in the Great Hall, each quiet in their own thoughts, when people started sniggering, pointing, and making wolf calls into their direction.

Confused but not overly concerned just yet, she continued toward the Great Hall's doors giving only the slightest attention to the looks and jests of the passing students. That is, until they reached the doorway and the crowd gathered about the Creevey brothers. The Sonorous Charm amplified Colin or Dennis' voice. Her face blanched when she heard the call, "Sordid affairs of the girl's lavatory; Head Girl in a fancy with _much_ older ex-professor. Five sickles a photo!"

She flinched on the emphasis of 'much'. Remus wasn't that old. Was he?

Hermione was about to storm over to the Illicit Deal of the Century and take away as many House Points as she could manage from all involved - yes, her own house as well! - when a small Hufflepuff girl pointed to Remus and herself, crying, "_There they are!_"

A rush of people crashed toward them, nearly tripping each other in the effort to be first. Snide remarks jaunted across the crowd; sneering innuendoes reached Hermione's ears. No one bothered to question if the photographs were fake; they simply assumed and were caught up in the drama.

"Granger! I'm your _biggest _fan!" a cocky sixth year Slytherin called out. "I want your _authentic autograph!_" His pale hands shoved an Ever-Inked Quill into her hands along with a photo from the incident yesterday in the girls' bathroom. Hermione looked down in horror at her own image rammed stomach first into the sink, a flustered Remus braced against her back, gripping the sink sides for support. The photo Remus kept trying to distance himself but slipped consistently, his movements suggestive against her backside. The Hermione in the photo was cringing, her face continually looking away from prying eyes, obviously distressed in embarrassment. Well, obvious to Hermione of the now. Regretfully, to eyes wishing to see scandal, it very well did look as though they were having a hot and wild tryst against the porcelain

Rage swelled up inside of her. She snapped.

Throwing the quill in the Slytherin's face, she turned her attention completely on the photo, ripping and shredding its backboard without mercy. Language spewed forth from her mouth such as no one had heard from her before. She grabbed photos out of others' hands and repeated the process, her words growing louder and less rational in the ever-quieting hall. Stunned into silence, the students stilled and stared in fear. Their Head Girl had morphed into, well, a pissed teenager.

"Leave me the bloody hell alone!" she screamed, throwing photo pieces to the ground and stomping on them in insult. "Seventy points from Slytherin for unnecessary acts of humiliation! Another ten for degrading the Head Girl!"

She then turned to where the Creevey brothers and Parvati stood in fear.

"And one hundred points from Gryffindor – yes my own house, Creevey! For distribution of fake, obscene photos that contradict with the rules and regulations Mr. Filch has posted of contra band in the hallways! And another five for being incompetent morons!"

She didn't care that she had come very close to bankrupting the Slytherin house, and she didn't even care that she had reduced Gryffindor's points by close to fifty percent. It was entirely Parvati and the Creevey brothers' faults. They could deal with the hostility of their Housemates.

Hateful glares erupted from the group over the jewels' reversals in the hourglasses, and an uproar issued forth in protest.

"You owe me five sickles, you bloody bitch!" the sixth year Slytherin screamed, his photo in tatters upon the flagstone.

"Another ten points from Slytherin house for foul language!" she cried over her shoulder in bitter triumph as she made her way into the Great Hall, her breakfast well past due.

As she headed toward the Gryffindor table, her pace slowed and her bravado wavered. '_Could this week get any worse?_' she asked herself miserably. An answer tickled the back of her mind. It was not good.

* * *

Charms found Hermione quietly working on an in-class assignment, Remus in his usual place next to her, reading a book propped against the desk. 

Agitated movement on her other side distracted her. She glanced to her left to find Terry Boot and Seamus Finnegan sniggering and laughing while leaning over something on their desk.

Apparently Flitwick had noticed, too, and purposely cleared his throat nearby. The boys started and glanced up, giving Hermione the chance to confiscate their booty.

She pulled the snatched parchment to her desk, only to realize with distress it was another of the tawdry photos from this morning. She paled and felt a nausea sweep over her. Her eyes closed and she took a moment to ease her breathing. When she looked back, she realized it was worse this time. Their clothes were askew; her blouse was not on her body but draped upon the neighboring sink. Its removal uncovered daring and very bold underwear - the type that wasn't hers. On an exposed body that wasn't hers. And he – he was but half bare, his shirt ripped open to display an overly muscular chest. It wasn't his.

The actions… Rather than the original scene of misinterpret-able actions, the photo showed Hermione, her mouth open in passion, grabbing anything to keep steady, while he, on the other hand, had his hands placed firmly on the wall and sink as his long hair swayed to and fro in rhythm with his body.

Whatever they had done, it was condemning the innocent pair.

Hermione, anger and fury boiling inside, glared at the two boys. Their innocent expressions normally would have made her sympathize, but this was different. This was her. This was Remus.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," ground out through clenched teeth. The movement upon the paper brought her eyes back to the photo, only to see the players increase their frenzy then still, each having reached climax. She snapped.

Before she could engulf it in incineratatory flames, she noticed the photo change further; the image of Remus was cradling Hermione's body, kissing her lovingly across her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. The look on the photo-Hermione's face was one of pure pleasure, contentment, utter bliss.

The real Hermione choked back the tears clouding her vision. She would never feel that kind of complete joy. Nobody would love her like that. She had thought Ron would, but recent events forced her to open her eyes to reality. There was no happily-ever-after in her future.

The reminder of her unfaithful boyfriend and her dismal life dropped into her stomach like a lead weight. A strangled squeak of anguish escaped her and tore out of the Charms classroom, oblivious to the stunned stares and calls from her classmates and professor.

Damn it all to hell! That degrading picture was the last straw. She was a Gryffindor; she had her pride and dignity.

The image of ecstasy was still embedded in her mind, a disturbing thought that was forever burned into memory. Her effigy looked so complete with a lover, so whole and content cradled in his arms.

It didn't improve her state of mind during her exodus that Remus chose to follow, calling her name in concern. For once she really didn't want him to comfort her; she didn't want to wind up doing something irrational during this emotional breakdown. And she was sure she was just angry enough to do almost anything to express her emotions, whatever confused myriad of feelings they may be.

She desperately darted into hidden corridors and secret passages in order to lose his pursuit. She played the cat-and-mouse game she normally hated, reduced to such trickery through sheer despair. Feeling his gain, she ducked a corner and slipped behind a large blue tapestry, its venomous raven squawking at the disturbance.

She listened carefully for Remus' footsteps. It was but a few moments before his tread approached and stopped just outside the tapestry. He was muttering to himself, obviously frustrated at her disappearance.

"Why does she have to be so bloody difficult? It's just a boyish prank, I'm sure. I knew those two were up to something, I just didn't know what. Oh, _Remus, _you ruddy dolt, you knew something bad was going to happen!" Continuing his self-beratement, his footsteps resumed down the corridor, growing faint in their echoes.

Taking the opportunity to escape, Hermione was just about to leave and head to her rooms when she heard more familiar voices.

"Edmund, I don't know why you won't let me in!" a female voice cried out. "At least tell a girl why you've rejected her!"

"I already told you!" a stubborn, deep voice angrily growled out.

"'_I'm in too deep_', isn't a reason! Hell, it's not even a bloody excuse!"

"I'm already in love with someone, and it isn't you! Judy, just let a poor man pity himself in peace!"

"Your mother doesn't count! At least give me an _excuse_, anything! I'd take it – anything, just to know I _tried_…"

Euken sighed in frustration. "I'm not talking about my mother, you stupid woman! I-am-in-love-with-someone-else!" he said, speaking each word carefully and separately as though explaining himself to a small child.

"It's a wizard, isn't it? I would understand if you went that way."

Eucken voice cringed, agitation getting the better of him, though he fought it down with effort. "I'm not _gay_, Judy. _I-am-in-love-with-someone-else!_ Are you deaf, woman?"

"I most certainly am not!" she cried, though her timbre and decibel level sorely questioned her statement. There was a pause before she continued with utter horror. "It's _her_, isn't it? Is that why Moody always picks on you? Oh, Edmund, you can't be _serious!_"

Hermione felt her face burn for reasons more than her pinched position between the heavy tapestry and rough-hewn stone wall.

"It's none of your ruddy business!" A resounding smack broke the heavy air, then he continued in an livid shout. "Don't touch me! I don't like you, I never did, and I certainly don't _love_ you! Now leave me the bloody hell alone!"

A moment of stunned silence crept back over the corridor, only to part for the anguished, stage-whispered words of the besotted woman. "But you, you… You told me you liked me, you told me you loved me! _You slept with me!_ Don't tell me that didn't mean anything, Edmund! Don't tell me you only used me in place of _her_!"

A stab of sympathy and guilt bit at Hermione's gut, and she wished fervently she'd missed this whole scene before her. She knew what it was like to be used, and she didn't much care for the feeling.

"You're an adult, not a starry-eyed teenager. You know it was just a fling. Now don't embarrass yourself further, Judy. Give it up. I. Don't. Like. You!"

"You used me, you selfish wanker! _How could you do that to me?_"

"You dense woman, where have you been?"

"You cried out _her_ _name!_ Even when I told you I loved you and I cried _your name_, you cried that stupid whore's name! _Her name!_"

"She's not a whore!"

Another smack, this one sounding much harder, followed by a cry of struggle. Hermione turned her head to see Judy pinned to the stone wall, Eucken enraged and on the edge. Hermione knew they couldn't see her from her position, but she could them rather well. Judy's red and humiliated face was streaked with tears; Eucken's disheveled hair and whiskery face reflected his agitated state.

"How could you? Edmund, _I love you_. How…?" Judy's voice cracked and she left the question hanging between them.

"See? Love's a terrible thing. Now you know what it feels like," he hissed, hatred consuming his face.

She tried to put her hands onto his face in comfort. "She doesn't even like you. It's Remus, isn't it?"

"Don't you even say his name in my presence." His words spit out in cold fury, and his grip on her arms tightened, twisting one at an awkward angle. The young witch cried out in pain, but he ignored her, his mind focused on his betrayal. "He is a backstabbing, murderous, stupid bloody beast! He was my friend once, but not anymore. You should go ask him why we're not close anymore. Perhaps Moody will share with you if you ask nicely," he hissed.

"Let me go! Edmund, stop it; you're hurting me!"

His answer was to shove her to the ground forcefully, adding injury to insult.

Hermione's senses caved; she couldn't take it anymore and pushed the curtains aside to reveal herself.

Eucken spun round to take in her presence with wide eyes, for the moment silenced by shock. Hermione ignored him and knelt next to Judy, wrapping her arms about the distraught Auror in comfort and compassion. Judy responded gratefully.

"Oh, Hermione, I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry," she sobbed, her pride fleeing in the warmth of consolation and sympathy.

"Shhh, it's alright," Hermione replied, running her hands through the redhead's hair, recalling how Remus liked it when she did the same to him.

Hermione realized she was relying on these people to protect her. They had all the answers; they were smart, talented, powerful, and never broke down crying. Yet, here she was remembering how Professor McGonagall did not have all the answers as to who or what Micah Hallam was. She remembered how in her sixth year Death Eaters managed to sneak their way into Hogwarts. And yet, here she was cradling a sobbing and heart-broken Judy – another one of those who were supposed to protect her.

But no one was perfect. She had to realize that now or forever be disappointed with those she looked toward for guidance, support or answers. Or, yes, protection. She'd always tended to be unforgiving in her admiration, and now she had to come to terms with the fallibility of humans, wizard and Muggle alike.

"Please take me to Minerva," Judy said solemnly, gracelessly standing up. Hermione followed, simply nodding in answer while offering her a hand. "I can't stay here any longer."

As they walked away, Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see Eucken, a deer caught in the headlights expression upon his face. She had no sympathy for him.

She turned back to further assist Judy, but fingers bit into her upper arm, jerking her about in a swift, smooth motion. Euken faced her, his attitude changed to one of appeal and light-hearted love. Hermione flinched when he began to speak.

"Hermione, you don't understand. It's not what it seems –," he began, but she was tired of hearing what she knew was forming in his words. She glared at his charming smile and blithe attempt to freshen his face and remove its anger.

"How could you?" she hissed vehemently. Not giving him time to answer, she ripped her arm back from him grasp and turned back toward Judy, diligently guiding her to the Headmistress' office.

Eucken's eyes followed her, a glint of fear reflecting the madness within.

* * *

Ta da! Sorry goes out to all the Eucken-lovers who didn't want him evil. Sorry, it had to happen!

As for the new poll, it goes as shows:

_If you could make Eucken evil, would you?_

**a.) Yes**

**b.) No**

**c.) It really wouldn't matter to me**


	23. Chapter 23: What's Lost is Found

Hello once again!

I'm just going to skip to the poll this time, (pretty much like how I always do anyway)...

_If you could make Eucken evil, would you?_

**a - (Yes)-** 6

**b - (No) -** 2

**c - (It really wouldn't matter to me) -** 1

Thanks to all who voted!

Thanks also goes out to **princess** (Choice A it is!) and **Kimi** (I'm glad you _really _liked the chapter, and as for Eucken...his tail's between his legs (he doesn't like the _Daily_ _Prophet_, let alone being hit by it!) but that's alright! Ah, thanks, I'm flattered to know you think my writing has improved, it means a lot to me:) Choice A it is!).

And welcome to a new section I decided to make - **The Kat Korner**. This is where I can let you see what _R J Lupin's Kat_ had to say about the chapter.

(And since I know she reads every chapter after it's posted -- what a fantastic beta! _thumbs up!_ -- I'm sure she'll have no problem with repeating a sentence or two she told me. Err, I hope! If not, I'm sure she'll tell me and then _poof_! no more of this section. Well, you get the point.)

"Interesting turn of events.This chapter explains a number of things with Eucken."

There you have it! Short and simple.

**Disclaimer** - I do not own Harry Potter. I'm sure Harry Potter wouldn't like to own me anyway.

**Dedication** - To the Poet King: Ditto on everything. I'm sorry I was blunt, I have a problem with reading things too fast and getting the wrong impression. I'm a dork for writing this because you'll never read it, but that's all I have to say besides I'm waiting for that request.

**Chapter 23**

**What's Lost is Found**

"I have idea what I see in him," Judy said solemnly as she and Hermione walked down the corridor leading to the Headmistress's office. Even though she didn't speak his name, Hermione knew the Auror was talking about Professor Eucken.

"I see the mistakes in him; I do, really, I do. He's a pervert, he's an overrated dueler, he's got that horrendous tan, his nose is too pointy and big, and his lips are chapped beyond belief and _still_," Judy said with a deep, depressing sigh. "It doesn't matter, does it?" Her tone turned defeated. "I don't see that when I look at him. I only see _him_. My heart skips a beat and my stomach flutters. It's like there's a swarm of beautiful butterflies inside waiting to be unleashed, unfolded, _released_.

"His eyes are beautiful, even though they're as black as the night. I look at them and see this _attraction_, and more importantly and more beautifully, I see his soul. It's out there and it's like only I can see it. It's too wonderful to describe, actually. Yet, he can't see it for himself. I've done all I can. I busted my bloody arse, and yet, it's futile in the end. Why can't he see it? _Why?_

"I can't take it anymore. I tell myself, over and over, that it's stupid; '_I shouldn't waste my time anymore. I even think Verger's looking at me_'…but I can't. It's pure stupidity and an utter waste of my time, but it seems that love defies all reason, logic, anything and everything…

"If you ever think you're in love Hermione, stop a moment and consider this: Would you do anything for them? Would you think about their welfare before yours? Would you do anything and everything to make sure they'll be alright, they'll come out in the end, they'll be happy no matter what… Would you?" Judy paused in her steps and turned to face Hermione, strain showing in her features.

"I – I don't know," Hermione replied hesitantly. She met the Auror's eyes, unsure of herself. "I thought I loved Ron, but I was wrong. I tried to stop thinking about him when I learned he was cheating on Lavender with me, but like you, I just couldn't.

"It plagued me; why would he cheat on _me _with _Lavender_? I hated her for so long, it was just the thought that he chose her over me. I kept beating on myself, with the thought of '_what does she have that I don't?_' But as time passed and things happened to me, I got over him and found I wasn't obsessing over it anymore. I wasn't _really_ in love with him. He was my friend, and always will be, but…" She shrugged, leaving the unsaid more clear than words.

"But it still haunts me. I feel stupid knowing that he thought he could continue an affair without me knowing. Yet, I can't let it control me. I've learned to let it subside and become my past." She turned and continued walking, Judy following momentarily.

In mere minutes they reached the gargoyle. Hermione gave the password and watched impassively as the statue animated and leapt gracefully aside for their passing.

Their discussion had come to an untimely end; awkwardness had decided to wedge between them, leaving their last words hanging between them. After knocking politely on the door, they were admitted politely to stand before the Headmistress quietly.

"What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" McGonagall asked the two distraught women. She removed her glasses and began to wipe them thoroughly on her robes.

"I'm sorry, Headmistress," Judy replied, taking a small step forward to claim the blame. "But I can't stay here any longer. I wish to resign and return back to Auror training."

McGonagall frowned. "Have you taken this matter up with the Alastor Moody?" she asked after a moment's pause. Her brow furrowed deeper as she waited for the young Auror's reply.

"Well, no, I haven't." Judy's words were just above a whisper, tinged with regret and unshed tears. "I would like to write to him, but I fear my personal reasons will only bring even more repercussions than necessary and I'll lose my job. I wish to ask you if you would write to him and ask him for me."

McGonagall's frown deepened further. "Well, I'm sorry to say, but I cannot. It's your duty as an Auror to complete the mission. Even I know that.

"You _did_ want to be an Auror," the Headmistress continued, forestalling the protest forming on Judy's lips. "I hope I'm sure in saying that you've read and studied the engagement policies assigned to all Aurors. Number two being that an Auror does not abandon a mission, no matter the circumstances, except death or by leave."

Judy shut her mouth and nodded solemnly, collapsing into a seat and admitting her defeat.

Hermione pitied Judy, the older woman hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders drooped and shuddering in quiet sobs. She stepped closer to the desk.

"Headmistress," Hermione spoke quietly. "I hate to receive the answer I know I'm going to get, but what will happen to us all? I'm not talking about trying to predict my future or anything, but I'm just concerned about the Micah Hallam situation."

"About that," McGonagall began with a sigh, gesturing for her to sit down in one of the fluffy chintz chairs. She placed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose and looked the young witch directly in the eye. "I need to talk to you about that, since nobody has.

"What I will tell you cannot be repeated. Please understand that what I'm about to tell you might be a shock. I myself am not rather…_thrilled_ about the information Professor Eucken has kept from me and everyone else, but he told me nonetheless.

"First, well… where to begin? The ring. It is currently missing, having been stolen from us just yesterday. This ring was actually an engagement ring."

Hermione suddenly remembered something the shopkeeper had said about the ring having a '_romantic past to it_'. He and Harry both seemed to be right.

"While still in school, Micah Hallam proposed to Myra Helena Simmons, his girlfriend. She was supposedly already pregnant with his child at this time. However, Professor Eucken informed me that she was seeing another man, that she had told Professor Eucken this herself. Since Hallam was a supposed Death Eater, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did not warm to the idea of their marriage, she not being of pure blood, as it were. He ordered Hallam dead. He also intended to retrieve the ring, as well, as it indeed belonged to You-Know-Who.

"So, for two years, Hallam left school and hid in the Muggle world. Professor Eucken had told me he had promised to return to Myra, but she, instead, had reunited with her old lover.

"Myra was left to hide the pregnancy while attending school. An unidentified witness reported that she gave birth with a friend's help in one of the girls' bathrooms. Years later, Micah was supposedly '_killed_' the day he was supposed to graduate.

"The only truly disturbing part is something I would never have known. Professor Eucken had known everything before we all did because Myra was…." She took a supporting breath and steeled herself against the statement. "Myra was his _mother_. Hallam, however, is _not_ his father."

Hermione sat momentarily silenced with shock. But as the initial bluntness faded, it gave way to a logical puzzle being put right. '_It explains close to everything_,' she thought to herself. '_Micah is still livid at the fact that Myra had an affair and that Eucken wasn't his son. No wonder poor Eucken was tortured physically, mentally, and emotionally. It also explains the flashbacks. Myra was the one he was with, and he seemed to love her very dearly; I would never have known someone like her would do something such at that._'

"Shocking, isn't it?" an eerie voice spoke up, filling the room with an uneasy dread.

Hermione turned around to find Micah standing in the corner, his yellow eyes wide with excitement and a sickeningly wide grin plastered sloppily onto his pale, pointed face.

"Micah Hallam, I presume?" McGonagall asked acidly from behind her aged, wooden desk. A thin eyebrow rose close to her hair line.

"Why, professor, you remembered," he replied smoothly. "A shock, really, for I was never one of your prized, smart students."

"Do you honestly think I only remember those who excelled above others?" Her voice was the same stern, no-nonsense authority it had always been. "What do you want?"

"I-well," Micah began before sighing heavily and shaking his head slightly. "It's hard to begin, you see. I like to brag about what you don't know and I do. It's easier for me to start and flow with the topic and conversation. But since your _dear_ Professor Eucken came out about these private little secrets, it's different and, I'm afraid to say, a bit more difficult."

The scowl he received from McGonagall only made his smirk widen.

"But, since I _can_ do things you don't want me to do, things that are disastrous to not only you, but a few others as well," Micah continued lazily, "I have come to hopefully work things. This would benefit you as well as myself."

"And what do you want?" McGonagall asked once more. Hermione sensed that she was actually fearful of the response that would escape his thin lips.

"I want Hermione."

His request was simple. But it was also unthinkable.

Before another word was spoken, Judy sprang from her chair and spun, revealing her wand in the blink of an eye. Hermione, on the other hand, sat frozen. She had an odd feeling that the discussion would come to this. She tried to melt into the chair, to become part of it in order to hide. She failed miserably.

"No way in bloody hell!" Judy cried out angrily, her face contorting in fury. But Micah ignored her easily and continued to stare intently at the Headmistress.

"It's easier to let me have her and continue living your own lives. Not only will I not step back into Hogwarts, but I will not harm another being again." Micah tilted his head to show the evil in his smirk. "I want nobody to look for her or to even try to do so. I want Hermione; you may wish to let it slide on willingly and smoothly, or let the battle rage on."

"How dare you even step foot into this castle!" Judy, outraged, screamed at him. This time Hallam turned and finally acknowledged her presence.

But he gave her little more than a glace before turning his attention to his object of affection. He revealed a box from inside his long black cloak. Gracefully, he walked in an inhuman-like manner over to a nervous Hermione.

"For you, dear Hermione," he said softly, presenting her with the box. "Remember that you will never forget the scars they gave you."

Her trembling hand took the box. Judy instantly appeared by her side with her wand poised as if the contents would fly out and bite her nose. Cautiously, Hermione opened the box.

On a propped cushion inside lay the ring that Ron had bought her. But what made her pale was that the ring was still on her amputated finger.

Bile rose in her throat. Just as she was about to drop it in horror, the finger moved of its own accord. Stunned, Hermione could only watch in dark fascination as it eerily crawled its way out of the box, inch by inch, to her left hand, renewing its residence upon the raw stump of knuckle. It remained cold and blue, still and dead.

Hermione seized up full body and fell to the floor.

Before McGonagall or Judy could react, Micah seized his thin black wand and bound the Headmistress to the shelf behind her with ropes from his wand. Judy remained self-petrified in fear or anger; it was hard to tell which.

"I assume by your fit that you will not let me have Hermione? Or, perhaps…?" Micah asked with a titled head. He let out a loud, evil laugh that echoed throughout the room.

Unexpectedly Hallam whirled around to face Hermione. He put his wand to the palm of one of his hands, and using a modified Severing charm slashed the wand across his palm. Crimson red blood flowed generously across his pale flesh.

He seized Hermione's left hand and squeezed it, encompassing the severed finger fully. To her amazement, when his hand left hers, her severed finger was once again whole with her hand.

Micah turned to the secured Headmistress.

"You can't have her," the stubborn, bound Gryffindor replied with fury. "No matter how much blood you offer, you will never be able to take away the pain and anguish you have put her through."

"With all due respect," Micah replied, respect conspicuously absent, "I was not the one who cut off her finger and let Eucken remain in this castle, knowing what he could do."

Giving McGonagall no time for a response, Micah turned back towards Hermione, her invisible barriers subsiding at his request.

"Shall we go?"

Just as McGonagall managed to sever her bonds, Micah disappeared into the shadows, his obsession trailing regretfully along.

I'm sorry if I confused everyone because of this chapter, but I am here to answer your questions. All you have to do is ask away!

However, since I've been waiting to do this in forever, I will redirect you to look back on something important that will resurface in further chapters...re-read _Chapter 12_. **Very important** if you really are into this story and want to figure out everything before it's all revealed (somewhat) in the end. Have fun, you treasure-chest hunters!

New poll! Correction! --

_If you were to somehow --ironically rather magically-- be able to enroll into Hogwarts despite your age, what Hogwarts House would you be sorted into?_

**a.) Gryffindor!**

**b.) Hufflepuff!**

**c.) Slytherin!**

**d.) Ravenclaw!**

Yeah, I just wanted to see what you'd say. I would choose...hmm, it's hard because you can't play favorites, yet you want to...either B or D. Well, what House would _you _be sorted into?

Ha ha, you must **review** to tell me! I'm too tricky, maybe I should choose C, but Harry, Ron and Hermione are tricky, too, maybe A, or no...

Anyway, thanks to all!


	24. Chapter 24: The Rise and Fall, Part 1

Hello all! I'm sorry for the delay, but I did warn you in Chapter 1! This is one of my favorite chapters (and you'll see why) and you'll get to learn a bit more about our-just-plain-creepy Mr. Hallam. (Wow, I feel corny!)

However, I would like to say thanks to all the fans out there for being so patient and eager! You guys are too good to be true, so attempt to pat yourself on the back and shout 'Huzzah!' You all deserve stickers but unfortunately that isn't going to happen, soo...

Poll time!

_I__f you were to somehow --ironically rather magically-- be able to enroll into Hogwarts despite your age, what Hogwarts House would you be sorted into?_

**a - Gryffindor! -5**

**b - Hufflepuff! - 3**

**c - Slytherin!** - **6**

**d - Ravenclaw! - 7**

(Some people voted twice...meaning they couldn't make up their mind and such. No worries! It's fine by me.)

**NOTICE: **I realized the mistake I made last chapter (I screwed the poll up) and attempted to fix it in a hurry. Hence the breakers going MIA. Since doesn't NOT wish to cooperate with me, the breakers will be ''. Thanks again! (Kimi, you are the only who noticed...so thanks! -- as well as for other stupid things messed up on me -- Another pat on the back for you!)

Thanks goes out to **Kimi** _(Yes, Eucken is a bastard. And yes, I get it, not to make myself sound stupid and be like...'Okay! Eucken's a a-hole!' If you get my point...I think I'm confusing you and myself. So sorry! Anyway...nice shock, eh? Don't worry...there's more to come that will shock you! Did you re-read the chapter I suggested everyone to? I was expecting you to get the rather small hint that reverses what's been told. Oh well, thanks so much again!)_ and **milady** (_Thanks for the vote -- Choice D it is...you're one of the 7)_!

**ONE MORE NOTICE: Hermione, after the last chapter, went wandering around the castle with Micah, etc. (which I may add, he did _not _kidnap her, he just convinced her in a scary way to follow him. I'm sure he'd only kidnap if absolutely necessary.) Still, when she came back to her rooms/reality, she was slightly punished for 'fraternizing with the enemy' (as put by Ron.) The beginning is of a few days after being scolded...If you're still confused, just ask me a question! (Sorry...I'm too drained and lazy to write this in story form. I thought it'd be best to skip over it. And sorry to Kat for not explaining this to you. Thought I did but I guess that it slipped my mind. So sorry!)**

**The Kat Korner!**

Her thougths on the chapter, "_Your title for "The Rise and Fall, Part I" is good. It tells a lot of what this chapter is about._"

Short and simple!

**Disclaimer - **I do not own Harry Potter and Co. But forget that -- I wish I owned a Time Turner! How cool would that be?

**Dedication - **To **the man involved in my first-ever poll**: have you jumped off that bridge _yet_? Please do so because even when I clearly laughed at your face, you still looked. It made me draw the conclusion that I will eternally hate you. And I put eternally lightly.

**Chapter 24**

**The Rise and Fall Part 1**

"You look like someone stole a rather enjoyable book from your grasp," Remus remarked through the gloomy silence of her room. He gave her a smile as she turned to him with a pout on her face.

"Well, I'm not allowed to carry on with my job as Head Girl and patrol the corridors," she replied sourly, crossing her arms under her chest. "I don't know _why_ they would do such a thing! I'm responsible, mature, can give a mean lecture, and I am not house-biased! This whole Micah thing has nothing to do with how I can judge any sort of fitful punishment."

"Hermione, dear, I don't know the answer, either." He looked at her over the rim of his small, oval glasses. "It's best not to complain about what you don't know. It could be because the Headmistress is looking out for you, for your best interest."

"Well, that's easy for you to say. All you have to do is make sure I don't do anything wrong. _And _you get to go to the library without being shooed out. As if Micah, or even Voldemort himself, would hide in a _library_ just to get the chance to kidnap me!"

"Hermione, stop rambling and get some shut-eye. You know how to contact me for any problems or whatnot."

"Hey! I am _not _done discussing my latest problems with you yet, mister! I need to have some time to talk at least one person's ear off! _Please_?" Her demanding tone turned pleading.

"Don't make me get up, Hermione. I'm tired and this chair is quite comfortable."

Frustration overtook her and she threw herself onto the bed in a tantrum. Was this what Sirius had gone through when he was stuck in Grimmauld place? She felt a twinge of empathy for him. She was miserable and couldn't deal with it in her usual, self-controlled manner.

She couldn't even look outside without feeling un-seen bars trapping her in a small, confined space. Oh, how she had missed the smell of the grass, the coldness of the snow, the physically and mentally warming sunshine…

How could she have ever underestimated the beauty of the outdoors? Why did she _now _want to go outside? Always before when she had the opportunity, she insisted that studying was more important than fun.

Well, it still was, she reasoned, but how she dreadfully missed what she couldn't have at the moment.

It seemed as if March dragged on like a slow, wounded creature crawling pitifully through an open field, waiting to be put out of its misery.

Hermione reflected back on the solitary month and realized that it had been _that _solitary.

But she couldn't help but smile at remembering the lovely conversations she and Remus shared, their secret raids to the kitchens as much an adventure as those she'd had with Harry. He seemed more lenient towards her after she had expressed her feelings of frustration and longing to him.

And as she tucked herself into her bed, she listened to the hum of Remus' droned voice and turned out all of the lights in the room. She couldn't help but smile at the peaceful, boyish look on his face as he dozed off.

Slowly, she slipped into dreams, forgetting the last thing that was on her mind…

_Hermione opened her eyes to find herself in the boys' dormitories. She looked around, feeling herself float and glide across the room as she inspected it. All around her was green decorations instead of the dark crimson red she was so familiar with._

_The dark mahogany of the four-poster beds reflected the light of the full moon outside; it gave the room an air of innocence and beauty._

_The four beds in the room were occupied by four petite bodies whose heads were left exposed to the world and moonlight._

'They look like precious porcelain dolls,' _Hermione mused. She couldn't help but smile lovingly and try to ruffle one of the four boy's dark, unruly hair. But, as her hand was about to touch his hair, the boy sprang up from the bed, alarming her._

_She stepped away as the boy, who didn't seem to notice her at all, tiptoed quickly to the trunk at the foot of his bed. Another boy, sensing the first boy awaken, sprang up from his bed with surprisingly fast reflexes and began to search quickly through his own trunk._

_Hermione sat down on the first boy's bed and watched with amusement as the two began to dig through their trunks, swearing and scrambling all the way. She remembered when she, Harry, and Ron were their age. Judging by their size, she guessed they were in their second, maybe even in their third year._

"_I traded a whole load of frog spawn for at least twenty cards!" the first boy murmured excitedly as he brought an armful of what she guessed to be Chocolate Frog cards to the center of the room along with a full trading book._

_The second boy, who had much straighter hair than the first boy, held a bemused look on his face as he set his own silver incrusted trading book down to the floor._

"_Who was stupid enough to want a whole jar_ _of rubbish frog spawn, which isn't worth anything, for twenty cards?"_

"_Why, our fickle friend, Crabbe, of course," the first boy replied, a wide, childish grin plastered sloppily onto his face. That face brought a strange sense of déjà vu to Hermione. "Bloody idiot!" the boy continued._

"_If his friends find out, we're in a load of dung, you know that, right?"_

"_Ah, let's just say we thought we were trading him a jar of essence of caterpillars."_

_Hermione glided from the bed, which left no mark or warmth of her occupation, and to the floor near the two little boys._

_The first boy, with unruly hair, looked up to give his friend a grin; when Hermione looked at him closely this time she had to stifle a gasp. He offered bright yellow eyes that shone in the darkness like lit oil lanterns._

_Hermione turned to the other boy, who was also grinning, and wondered who _he_ was. But upon closer examination, she could see dull, gray eyes shine out of the boy's eyes. Somehow they reminded her of Malfoy, but as she looked more closely, she felt a strange remembrance of Sirius._

_The boy's hair was as black as her late friend's. It was also straight and dirty looking, almost as if a dog in need of a bath. But, unlike her best friend's godfather, this little boy held an air about him of royalty, class, just a hint of mischief, and happiness._

'Sirius is a Gryffindor, anyway,'_ Hermione recalled as she watched the boy organize five cards into his trading book. _'Judging by the green in this room, he's a Slytherin.'_ His ankles, skinny and chicken-like, poked out of his dark green silk pajamas. They reminded her greatly of Sirius when he was stick-skinny and starving in the cave with Buckbeak in her fourth year. '_Plus, Flitwick said that Remus was a year older than Micah, who's obviously this other boy. So Sirius wouldn't be sleeping in the same dormitory anyway. Didn't Sirius have a brother…?

'Regulus Black!'

_Comprehension dawning, she watched with renewed interest as the boy flipped pages upon pages of cards, waiting patiently for to finish sorting his own cards into his trading book. _'So, this little boy, right next to her, was Sirius' younger brother…'

_Hermione continued to watch Regulus. He kept glancing at Micah every now and then as if needing to say something, continuously flipping page after page._

"_Yes?" Micah drawled out in amusement as Regulus put on a pout for being caught._

"_So…that Ravenclaw girl you've been 'running accidentally into' for the past couple of weeks," Regulus began, his innocent gaze upon the now red Micah._

"_What about her?"_

"_I hear she kissed you after Charms class."_

"_So?"_

"_What if she wants more from you?"_

"_It depends on what she wants."_

"_I mean dating, you numbskull! What if you forget all about me?"_

"_Regulus, don't be ridiculous, she's just a _girl_. You're my _best friend_. I would never let anything get in the way of our friendship!"_

"_Promise me?" _

"_Of course."_

_Just then the door opened to reveal three, large silhouettes of obviously older boys. _

"_We heard you ripped off our friend, Crabbe…" a deeper voice drawled._

_A force pulled her away from the confrontation, leaving her wondering if the boys were going to pay dearly for their prank. Her mind had little time to consider, however, as everything turned dark about her. She began to float about, unfeeling and unbalanced before landing unpleasantly on the cold stone floor of a corridor._

_She instantly scrambled to her feet and out of the way of apparent second years exiting a Charms classroom. An isolate boy with unruly black hair and blinding yellow eyes set off in the direction of the Hospital Wing, leaving his friends to their path for lunch._

_He didn't get far, however, before a very petite little girl with unruly brown hair caught his skinny arm._

"_Wait, where are you going? The Great Hall is this way, if you've forgotten," she replied shyly. The boy looked at the old Ravenclaw badge on her out-dated school uniform._

"_I'm going to the Hospital Wing to see my friend. He was in a duel with his brother. I need to see if he's still okay," Micah replied solemnly._

"_Well," the girl began uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the little girl's bravery and watched in amusement as the tension began to unfold awkwardly. "I just wanted to tell you that you're really good with the Gravitational Charm we learned today."_

_Before he could make a smart-mouthed reply, the little girl kissed him daringly on the lips. It didn't last very long; she pulled away and blushed a very light pink._

"_I'm Myra. Hope to see you in class again!" _

_She walked away from him with a skip in her step. Hermione was shocked at the girl's daring and bold behavior. She wasn't the only one; Micah stood still, his hand absent-mindedly touching his lips and watching the girl walk away._

_Just as Micah turned around, he ran smack-dab into an older boy, causing both of them to fall to the ground. _

"_Whoa, watch it," the older boy said gently. He stood up and helped Micah from the stone cold floor caringly._

_Hermione's heart beat faster as she looked upon the pale and gangly third-year Remus, her heart aching at the limp in step as he continued on. Without conscious thought, she turned to follow him, wondering if it had recently been full moon._

_Before she could follow him far, her world turned black once again. Disappointment spread through her. She wanted to follow Lupin, see how he was on this occasion. Curiosity aside, she cared how he fared, worried how he had gotten on back then. It was obviously before his friends had turned to Animagi for him, so he was obviously spending his full moons along, friendless and in pain._

_The Hogwarts library unfolded before and about her. Madame Pince was stamping books with gusto and instructing her assistant, a very petite girl with very long red hair who reminded Hermione of Ginny. Off to the corner sat a group of four teenaged boys, laughing at something in some textbook. Near them sat a lonely boy who Hermione instantly recognized as a fifth-year Regulus Black._

_His dull, gray eyes searched a very large book; his long fingers traced the lines of the text. His other hand, however, was occupied with a dark, raven quill that scratched busily onto the parchment next to him. His face had matured some and his shoulders had grown broader from the first memory she saw him in._

_Fascinated by him, Hermione began to make her way towards Sirius' younger brother. She sat down in a chair across from him, observing him closely._

_Oblivious to his patron, Regulus continued to write on the parchment and search through the thick tome._

_Soon a boy she instantly recognized as the fifth-year Micah sat down right next to Regulus. The latter shot his head up immediately and lowered his quill. He leaned closely to Micah, waiting for a response._

"_What did the nurse in Hogsmeade say?" Regulus asked in a whisper, his lips barely moving. Hermione had to drape herself over the table to make out his words._

"_Myra's pregnant," Micah replied, as pale as the ghost roaming in and out of the book aisles nearby. "Five months pregnant."_

"_Micah!" Regulus' hushed tone was edged in worry. "That means she got pregnant during summer break! You're fifteen years old; you shouldn't be shagging! Did you at least try to brew the potion Snape showed me?"_

"_I did! I even watched her take it!" Micah insisted as he rocked back and forth in his wooden chair._

"_Micah, you have to be serious here! I had to face Snape questioning me about having a concubine already! It was torture!"_

"_I am being serious!"_

"_Well, there's that ritual and – and Muggle abortion. I heard the abortion thing is much more effective in not killing the mother, but these days I think it's illegal in the Muggle world."_

"_I already talked with her about it; she won't get rid of the baby! Regulus, I'm going to get killed and I can't tell her… The Dark Lord is going to murder me. What should I do?"_

_Regulus, his face pensive, spoke up in a dry voice._

"_Run away. Tell Myra you'll come back, but you can't stay here. It's not safe."_

_After thinking it over for a minute, Micah shut his eyes and buried them in his hands. When he spoke, his voice was harsh and determined._

"_It's the only thing. She has to understand…"_

_Micah looked up and tried to give Regulus a reassuring smile._

"_Please, please…watch out for her. You know how much I love her. I'll come back, I swear. Just please, don't do anything stupid."_

_Micah stood up and rushed noisily from the library. Hermione watched Micah's retreating form and wondered why the entire burden for just one, simple, pleasurable night with his lover had to totally change and devastate his life forever._

_As she thought about what could have gone wrong with the potion, she remembered McGonagall saying something about how the baby really wasn't Micah's… Something was greatly troubling her…something that she remembered Eucken saying long, long ago._

_At the thought of her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, she realized that Myra was pregnant with Eucken; it was truly uncomfortable and strange to think about. But what stuck in her tired mind most were Micah's words to Regulus: '_don't do anything stupid_.' Just what did he mean by that?_

_The black surroundings reappeared and Hermione was floating once again. On her mind was the fate they seemed to have sealed for themselves. Why did life have to be so devastating? _

_Before long another place appeared, this time a bathroom that looked oddly familiar. The old marble and broken sinks triggered her memory just moments before the pearly figure swept giddily through the cubicles, her transparent, pudgy face scrunched in intense glee. It was Moaning Myrtle._

_The ghost tried to sing sweet lullabies over the wails of a baby. A very harassed and shocked young man exited one of the stalls, carrying a white bundle toward one of the sinks. It was Regulus, sweating and pale. He glared at the crooning ghost._

"_Shut up Myrtle!" Regulus yelled. "You're not helping the situation!"_

_Wrapped in red-stained cotton towels, was a small, wailing baby, still encrusted with blood from birth. Its tiny fists shook, its voice loud and desperate for something no one would be able to understand._

_Hermione couldn't help the awe she felt, and she smiled as Regulus took some of the towel and wetted it with cold, discolored water from the tap. He gently wiped the crimson blood off the baby, his touch ever so careful and light._

_The bathroom door burst open._

_A girl with bright red hair entered carrying an old bucket of soapy water. Noticing the Slytherin, the Gryffindor shrieked and let go of the bucket, dooming it to hit with a crash, sending water rushing across the dingy stone tiles._

_But the scene before her faded again, and Hermione spiraled through time and space to a damp, windowless, desolate dungeon. Bars lined the single door, the torches from the corridor leaking their light into the room._

_Lying right next to her petite feet was a man, his form unconscious and beaten. His hair was ruffled thoroughly, and he twitched uncomfortably with every deep breath he took. Large, purple bruises stained his face along; deeply inflicted slash marks lined his cheeks and forehead,_

_Feeling pity for this poor soul, Hermione fell to her knees to inspect him when two people clad all in black moved into the cell hesitantly._

"_When's the last time someone checked on him?" one of the two asked, his question echoing throughout room._

"_Two hours, at the most," the taller one replied sadly. "It's a shame. The Dark Lord favored him above all of the others, even over the top followers."_

"_I'm telling you, this boy knew the Dark Lord before we did," the shorter figure added with disgust as he spat on the ground near Hermione. "He would have had it made. He might have been the next Dark Lord for all we would've known."_

"_Idiot boy. What a waste of life," his friend responded regretfully. "Teenage love doesn't last at all."_

"_Should we really kill him?"_

"_He'll be more than likely to rot outside, but then again, he could escape." His voice sounded slightly hopeful, his pity underlying his words._

"_The Dark Lord would never know if he survives and doesn't show his face again."_

"_It's really risky, though."_

_Though she knew they couldn't hear her, Hermione began to plea for the boy's safety and release. She tried to tug at their filthy clothes, desperate for their attention. Hadn't he been through enough? He deserved a second chance at life!_

"_Let's go before anyone sees us," the taller man suggested in a whisper, helping his companion lug the boy up. The beaten one sagged, his body unsure if it was still living. But his breathing – however slight now – reminded his flesh that he was, indeed, still alive. Hermione sighed in relief. Small miracles indeed._

_She followed the trio out of the cell and down the corridor. Other men in black traipsed in and out of the various rooms, allowing Hermione to catch glimpses of the occupants within. Ragged, abused witches and wizards were being tortured with knives, magic, pipes, clubs… The horror of it forced her eyes away._

_She returned her gaze to Micah, and saw his eyes open and look around. They were glassy with unshed tears, and all Hermione wished was that she could reassure the poor boy, who was now being carried on the back of the taller guard. Guessing it was only a memory, she still could not help herself to speak to the boy, her own eyes filling with sorrow._

'Oh, poor Micah,' _she sobbed._

_Hermione let go as the two drug his limp body through a bush just outside the enormous, creepy castle. She dared herself to watch as they continued his haphazard trip throughout the dark forest. Reaching a black, desolate area, they placed his body on a decaying log decorated with termites and maggots._

_The two figures retreated, quietly congratulating themselves on a job well done._

_Once they'd departed, she watched in amazement as Micah stood to his full height. A sloppy grin of madness dawned on his freshly lit features. His eyes shone bright like mammoth beacons and his fingers flexed as claws began to take over and transform his hands. The bruises began to disappear and, though the slashes remained, the blood flow from them ceased._

_She gasped as she watched his transformation._

_At that moment Micah turned from the boy he was to the man she knew._

_Micah slashed his claws at annoying vines before taking one last glance at the towering and forbidding tower. He turned away from it with a formidable expression and continued his journey through the deep forest. He was oblivious to Hermione, standing near the log and watching him retreat, fear etched on her face._

_It seemed that all she was shown was the past of one tortured soul. _

_Micah Hallam._

Well? Questions, concerns and comments go into the review box. Thanks!

Poll time!

_What do you think Micah had done after being thought dead (to pick up after Hermione's dream sequence of the past)?_

**a.) - **He went into hiding only to later return to the public.

**b.) -** He went looking for Myra.

**c.)** - You decide something different! Tell me a whole plot line if you will! I won't mock you, promise.

Thanks again goes to those who are so patient! Please leave a **review**. Thanks once again!


	25. Chapter 25 Realizations

Ah! Yes, I know, I _know_. I truly deserved to be considered as evil as my cat -- which, to me, is quite extreme! -- and honestly, I cannot allow myself to make up excuses or anything stupid of the sort.

I promised myself when I started updating this story I would update whenever I could; however...unfaithful me has been very bad and need to apologise to my lovely fans out there who have been patiently waiting! I hope this chapter is to your liking, and I promise that if I can get on the computer and update, _I will_!

(Also -- apology to R J Lupin's Kat. No more Kat Korner, not to offend you or anything, but I was adding too much crap in and forgot about the fact that I was updating chapters, not a newsletter.)

* * *

**_All That is Wrong_**

**C****hapter 26 -- Realizations**

April unfolded before her very eyes, bringing with it the promise of spring. The first Tuesday of the month found Hermione wearily returning to her room after afternoon classes. She was exhausted, both mentally and physically. She was tired of the looks. She was tired of the snickering remarks behind not-so-discreet hands. She was tired of explaining to Justin that _no_, she wasn't allowed to do Head Girl duties, and that _no_, she couldn't just 'sneak out' and patrol the corridors with him.

It didn't help that she had the weight of Micah Hallam's past on her shoulders. The memories he had slyly shown her through dreams refused to escape the trappings of her mind. She knew personal – very personal – things few others did, and the responsibility draped upon her like a leaden robe. So by Tuesday's end, she was seeking only the counsel of her bed.

She reached her room with Remus right behind, a silent shadow of conscience and defense. After placing her palm to the door to gain entrance, she pushed through, dropped her bag in the middle of the room, and fell onto her bed with a sigh. It had been a very long day.

She savored only a few moments of sheer pleasure before returning to the reality of school. She had homework to attend, after all, and it wasn't going to answer itself. Groaning beneath her breath, she abandoned the comforts of the bed for her hardback chair and desk. She began to sift through her neatly organized books and papers, setting out what she knew she would need for the evening's assignments. Through the rustle of parchment, though, she distinctly caught a shuffling noise behind her. Turning, her eyes widened in amused surprise. Remus was stretched out upon her bed, lazily making himself comfortable in a burrowing fashion.

"Wake me when it's time for dinner," his muffled request came through the pillow his face was buried into. He readjusted again, this time rolling lethargically onto his back, his eyes shut to the world, an arm draped lazily across them.

"_Remus_, don't be such a bum," she replied, trying to hold in her laughter at seeing his face contort from happiness to utter pleasure. He let out a low moan.

"So far this mattress is by far my most favorite."

"Most favorite? And how many have you deigned to test, may I inquire?" Her arched brow sought an answer with both playful curiosity and genuine interest.

He hesitated, a deep chuckle prefacing his answer. "Oh, a few… here and there."

The replying snort was unladylike, full of speculation and, well, embarrassment. But she trouped on. She could play his game. Hermione Granger wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

"Oh, do tell," she suggested, leaving her desk in soft tread toward her protector. His stance suggested such an innocent subject, yet…

It was his turn to snort. "Kiss and tell? I'm a _gentleman_, Hermione," his soft reply chastised. A wolfish smile tinged his answer. "I don't _tell_…"

Hermione bit her lip, her sudden loss for words uncomfortable. Heat crept across her face.

A rapping at the door saved her silenced response. She crossed the room, opening the heavy oak with a preoccupied mind.

No one appeared. She glanced down the corridor to both side, puzzled. No trace could be found. Feeling silly, she tossed her arms about in front of her, just in case it was Harry or Ron in Harry's Invisibility Cloak. No such luck.

Shrugging it off as an under-classmate's prank, she softly shut the door, hoping not to disturb Remus. The gentle, slow rise and fall of his chest suggested he'd slipped into slumber already.

A smile tugged at her lips, and she started forward, her intent solely on the adorable picture before her. Unfortunately, coordination abandoned her just a few steps in, and she tripped herself up, stumbling comically toward the bed. She caught herself quickly - directly on top of Remus.

Jolted from his short-lived nap, Remus flung his arms about, catching the volleying weight to his midsection. His fuzzy mind grasped for clearance as his 'catch' turned out to be quite feminine. His eyes focused – bushy hair, school robes, blushing cheeks. Amusement rose and he arched an eyebrow in silent question.

Hermione could scarcely meet his gaze, her scarlet skin desperate to hide beneath her locks. A great sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her, and she felt none-the-better for it, either. Why were the fates tormenting her so? Would someone _please_ answer her, someway, somehow? A loud, stern cough granted her request.

Startled, Hermione glanced over her shoulder. Oh, just great! Here we go again…

Micah stood in the middle of her room, his yellow eyes narrowed, his arms crossed. Unlike every other time, his hood was down, revealing pale, pointed features. His matted hair fell in a surprisingly graceful wave upon his face. But the frown etched upon those lips cut her heart deeply; with little doubt she knew she'd hurt him… again.

Her face burned a deeper red, but this time in shame. Is this how Ron had felt when she had caught him with Lavender on Christmas?

Banishing Ron from her mind, she jolted up from the bed, turning her back to Micah as she tried desperately to straighten her appearance. She knew she looked guilty, and shame tugged at her relentlessly. He would, of course, assume the worst; his previous lover had cheated on him, and he seemed to mark her as his current one. Though not in the least accurate, she didn't want to hurt him any more than he'd already been.

"What did you think you were doing, werewolf?" Hallam hissed furiously. He grabbed at Remus, jerking him away from her. Swinging his booted foot wildly, his anger moved to beat Remus through old-fashioned Muggle strikes.

Just in time Remus managed to grab his wand and hex himself free. Unfortunately, he found himself without purchase and collided heavily with the floor. His reflex to rebound was surprisingly swift. He and Micah moved into _en guard_ position, wands at the ready.

"_Stop it!_" Hermione scrambled to step between the two, desperate to break up the coming fight. However, Micah sensed her intentions and, moving with blinding speed, intercepted her and shoved her viciously to the bed.

Momentarily shocked and disoriented, Hermione took a moment to gather herself and regain her balance. She sat up, and immediately wished she hadn't. The scene before ripped through her, creating fear she hadn't known existed. She stared transfixed, muted.

Micah, enraged by his interpretation of the two Gryffindors' actions, was holding Remus inches aloft – by his throat. The latter's face colored. First pink, then red, tinting toward a sickly purple…

"Why do you persistently stay near her?" Micah muttered ever so softly. His words were edged in ice. "You have better things and missions to do, so why do you insist on protecting her?"

Remus didn't respond, and Micah grew further agitated. His hold tightened as his fingers squeezed indignantly. "Answer me!"

Remus made for the phantom wizard's hand, his long fingers attempting to pry the talons loose from his neck. His hoarse voice forced an answer through. "Because I _love_ her!"

Micah dropped Remus instantly, a bemused look forming on his face. Hermione, however, wasn't amused. It took her a moment to remember how to breathe. Instead of rushing to Remus' side to check him over, she sat stone still atop her comforter, stupefied by shock. _He **what**?_

Micah wasn't appeased by this revelation, however. Once again he grabbed for Remus, this time latching his palm onto the werewolf's forehead and visibly draining him of his energy.

All Hermione could do was stare. How had she not realized it before?

Thinking back, she realized that Remus must have at least liked her before he returned last year as her bodyguard. He had complimented her to Eucken; he had even _volunteered_ to protect her _himself_. Did he have ulterior motives for doing so? Perhaps to remain by her side through some sort of quiet longing?

But how could Remus love _her_? She was clever, intelligent. Her loyalty was unwavering. And like him, she had a dry sense of humor. But she wasn't a beauty. No, not by any means. She was adequate, inoffensive to the eyes, nothing more.

A memory from the Hospital Wing flashed in her mind. Judy, Ginny, Eucken, Mad-Eye, all discussing her situation. Mad-Eye and Eucken were arguing…

"_Lupin would have never tried to _rape_ a student. He has control; he would never let himself have feelings for a girl half his age."_

"_I wouldn't be so sure about that."_

Oh, how she hated irony right now.

She was snapped from her train of thought by the crash of Remus' body to the floor. Micah had let him go, shoving him back to the hardwood in anger. Hermione looked up at Micah, his bright yellow eyes piercing.

"Do you feel the same way about him?" His voice was solemn, almost… _regretful?_

"As a friend, yes," she replied hesitantly, now questioning _her own _feelings. "But, I – I had no idea he felt differently about me. Micah, what you saw before… it was an accident. I fell, that's all. I don't want to hurt you; I don't want to hurt _anyone_. You know that."

A silence fell over the room. Micah looked at her steadily, his face softening from resentment to regret to compassion.

"You know I love you, don't you?" he questioned at a whisper, almost as if afraid that if he spoke any louder the spell of the moment would break.

"Of course," she replied, trying desperately hard to give him a reassuring smile. She really didn't want to see him hurt, nor Remus, and she was terrified of what Micah might do if she openly rebelled against him. "After all you've done for me, how could I not know?"

A groan echoed throughout the room, preempting Micah's answering smile. His resentment towards the werewolf returned and he grabbed the front of Remus' shirt and forced him to his feet. His nostrils flared in controlled fury.

Remus, however, held his ground. "I am in love, whether you like it or not!"

This caught both Hermione and Micah by surprise. Hermione had thought Remus would have done something different – perhaps kicked or jinxed Micah. Some sort of act to escape, at least. But no. Instead he reiterated his feelings. And he wasn't finished.

"I may be a werewolf, but that doesn't mean I don't feel. I'm still a _man_, for God's sake! I know anger; I know pain. I've known sorrow and regret. But I've also known pleasure and joy. And love… _even love_.

"No, I'm not the most handsome or charming wizard in our world, nor perhaps the best man for Hermione, but it doesn't change how I feel. I don't care. I love her. And you can't _punish_ me for that!"

Remus swayed dangerously. Though his face had returned to natural color, he was still suffering the ill-effects from lack of oxygen. Hermione watched intently, unsure of her next move and – shamefully – too absorbed with wonder of how much Remus was going to confess.

"I may be a lonely old man," Remus continued quietly, "but that doesn't mean I'm some sick, twisted monster. Sure, I could seek out someone of my own kind – a female werewolf live out my life with. But I don't want that; I won't settle. I want true happiness, true love. I want Hermione.

"You're powerful; oh yes, I'll give you that. And you've dark magic to your advantage. But all your strengths can't change my feelings for her. Frankly, I don't give a damn anymore what you do; just leave Hermione out of this."

A tangible pause hung in the air. Then Micah hissed his words, sneering amusement evident. "How… touching." He flexed his fingers, their long grace transforming into claws. "You're just as stubborn as Eucken… before I _persuaded _him. Hopefully, however, you'll possess the challenge I've desired. He was simply _too_ easy…"

Micah, his eyes now wide, advanced on Remus. The werewolf instantly grabbed his stray wand from the floor.

Fearing the worst, Hermione jumped off of the bed, anxious to prevent the coming fight. It was not to be, however. Remus – never breaking eye contact with Hallam – grabbed and tossed her back toward the bed. It was a matter between the two men.

Micah's face grew furious.

"You dare to touch her like that in front of me?" Micah growled angrily.

"You did the same thing," Remus replied coolly, his face set and stern as he gripped his wand even tighter.

"Stop it! Right now! Stop this nonsense!" Hermione may as well have been hexed with a silencing charm for all the attention they paid her. Her throat constricted in fear and frustration, and she gripped the bedclothes beneath her with restrained emotion.

Suddenly, Micah pounced onto Remus, sending both of them crashing to the floor. Micah's claws repeatedly stabbed the wooden floor, each time falling just shy of Remus, who was dodging the moves with a surgeon's precision.

With considerable effort, Remus kicked Micah off of him and managed himself to his feet. He was panting with the effort, his face flushed. Outraged, Micah regained his footing and stood, trembling with rage.

It was too much to behold, but it was also too late to intervene. For her to try something now, Hermione knew that not only would she herself get hurt, but most likely one or both of them. Instead, she grabbed her wand, preparing herself for whatever happened next. She needn't wait long.

Remus aimed a few curses at the cloaked figure, missing him by inches. Important parchments and notices went up in flames; an oil lamp disintegrated; bed-curtains tore in triplicate parallel. Bent on destroying one another, they were destroying her room.

Then suddenly, Micah disappeared. A smug smirk his last impression, he faded into the shadows. All was still, but for the pained breath of her protector.

Remus waited for Hallam to return, glancing about the room cautiously. Hermione, too, waited and wondered what Micah was going to do now. Was he going to kidnap her or… _worse_?

"Everything's safe now. He seems to have retreated."

She looked up at Remus, an uncomfortable concern upon her. What was going to happen between them now? Would he force matters further after such a revelation? Or would they pretend nothing happened, that he had not declared passionate love for her?

Just then, Remus, with an eerie, determined face, climbed onto the bed with her.

Instinctively Hermione crawled up to the headboard, her wand out and ready to defend herself.

Remus, however, seemed little fazed and continued to crawl hesitantly, slowly toward her. It was almost as if he was battling with himself. Just as she was ready to jinx him, he stopped, murmuring to himself. He latched onto the bedpost, anchoring himself away from her. It was then Hermione realized that Micah was trying to control Remus and force him to do his bidding.

Not wanting to break his concentration, she kept her mouth shut. This internal war he was fighting was taking a toll on him, and she mentally questioned how much strength he had left. Try as she might, she couldn't think of a single thing she could do to help the situation.

A sudden gasp from Remus turned her attention back to him. He was staring at her, his bright blue eyes penetrating her own. They were comforting, and she took a relaxing breath as he let go of the post and sat up carefully, awareness still visible in his tense posture.

Without warning Micah appeared from the shadows, his claws flexing dangerously once again, a wide, evil grin caressing his face.

Taking the initiative, Remus dove toward Hermione and grabbed her thin, frail wrist and pulled her to him. Micah pounced, aiming his claws at Remus' head. Both she and Remus ducked. Heart beating wildly with fear, Hermione grasped tightly to the man before her, inhaling his familiar scent as a source of comfort. It didn't help.

But in the midst of drama, she failed to notice one very important move: Remus had slipped the ring from her finger.

A sense of calmness spread through her. Her anxiety lessened, her fear dissipated. But it didn't last long, however.

A random hand grabbed her lower back and an arm wrapped itself around her shoulders. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the warmth of his breath against her ear. Remus threw Hermione to the bed, startling her into awareness. He rolled both of them off the bed just as Micah landed on it, his claws stabbing the mattress.

Hermione landed on top of Remus, her limbs entwined with his. Though embarrassed and uncomfortable in such a compromising placement with him, a feeling of déjà vu skipped across her mind. Even in the violent struggle, Hermione couldn't help but realize her position against him as a thrilling one.

Her breath once again hitched as he looked up at her with something in his eyes she couldn't quite understand. Her fingertips unconsciously massaged at his chest, neither pushing nor pulling away.

She had no time to analyze this new experience, though, as he immediately rolled her off of him and pushed her roughly away to the underside of the bed. She caught sight of his pulling his wand from the inside of his robes just before the bed-skirt fell, blocking her view.

All was dark about her, and for a moment she became disoriented. Sound was both muffled and intensified, and her skin was ultra-sensitive. What was happening? Was Remus all right? Where was Micah now? Had he retreated again, to leave them in peace?

Suddenly something grabbed her and she was yanked violently out from under the bed. A strangled whimper escaped her lips as she struggled against the steel-like grip. A familiar scent caught her attention and, tossing her hair out of her eyes, she peered at her captor to see a reassuring sight. Remus.

Great relief and pleasure washed over her, and she accepted his offer to help her stand with him. Tearing her eyes from him, she looked across the bed to Micah to see him frozen in a frustrated state. Hate filled his eyes as he stared at Remus, and Hermione glanced back to see what had brought on this new level of anger.

Remus was holding the ring. Taunting Micah with it, actually.

Micah transformed his claws back into his human-like hands and relaxed his expression. He now seemed amused, as though accepting this new dilemma as a mere challenge.

"I'll be back for more," was all he said before disappearing into the shadows, his grin lingering deeply in Hermione's mind like a foul and unpleasant odor.

"He's gone, for now. But he'll be back." Remus spoke as much to himself as to her. He suddenly let her go, stepping away as though burned. Hermione couldn't help but inwardly cringe. Was she really so unworthy? But his smile, distant though it was, was reassuring.

A minute passed in awkward silence, and the events of the evening fell into jagged puzzle pieces, crying to be joined. After a moment's contemplation, she drew a breath of courage and spoke what troubled her mind. It was little more than a whisper.

"You don't _really_ love me, do you?" It was almost a statement.

She had tried for nonchalance, but it came out wrong. A sad desperation laced her words. It didn't help that she wished he would say '_yes_'.

He hesitated in answering, refusing to meet her eyes. Instead, his gaze rested at a point just past her right shoulder. When he spoke, his response was cool, calculated.

"No, Hermione. It was a diversion, a trick. I had to get Hallam to let my throat go. He was too strong and magic wouldn't help me." He spared her a glance, then turned away quickly, toying with the ring betwixt his fingers. Her pain lay evident upon her young face.

He retired heavily to the nearby chair, running a hand through his graying hair and sighing deeply. His voice softened. "I do love you, Hermione, but as a friend only. I was bluffing before, like in that Muggle card game."

Abruptly he rose and, averting his eyes, stepped across the room to his attaché case. Pulling parchment, quill and ink from it, he settled back in the chair and began to write, signaling their conversation at an end.

Hermione could only watch dully, the heavy weight in her stomach vying with uncertainty and confusion. What had just happened, really? The dynamics between them had changed – definitely and definitively. But was the change between the two of them, or just in herself?

Did she honestly want to know?

* * *

I know -- _evil_! So sorry I am. :)


	26. Chapter 26: The Choice of Regret

**_All That is Wrong_**

**Chapter 26 -- The Choice of Regret**

April disappeared much too fast for Hermione's liking. May _already_? her mind queried often through the early spring month.

It was a month full of changes, however, and not the best, either. Hermione couldn't look at Remus anymore. She shied away from his attempts at conversation in their walks to her classes. Something deep inside of her felt betrayed.

Memories of their last encounter with Micah burned painfully within her. But it wasn't Micah himself that preoccupied her thoughts of that event: it was Remus. She tried to rid these negative recollections – how could she call them positive when they hurt her so? – and remind herself that Remus only did what he thought best to protect her. But the hollowness inside refused to let go, and each passing day made her feel more and more untouchable.

It was late Wednesday; she was thankful that she had at least made it halfway through the never-ending week. Honestly, she was lucky she even made it through her classes without losing herself in her thoughts and conspiracies. They absorbed her attention; she could hardly remember she even existed.

Walking up to her rooms with Judy (granting Remus a loo break), she enjoyed a conversation with the redheaded Auror about love, or rather, what she thought love was. It comforted her; her company was always amusing. Hermione would never admit it out loud, though. Sometimes Judy said something she, Hermione, found interesting. Mostly, however, the rest was gossip.

Hermione hid her amused smile behind a hand. '_How ridiculous our conversation topic is_,' she mused. '_She acts like she's my age_.'

"Well, I'm not so sure I'm _in_ love, though," Hermione said, still attempting to hide her smile. In a Mrs. Weasley-like manner, Judy waved a finger parentally at her as if she knew something only Hermione knew.

"I don't think so," she said in a singsong voice. "I think you're just crazy about _somebody_…."

"I am _not_!" Hermione retorted, adjusting her heavy bag on her shoulder. Now she was just starting to get irritated with her, but she knew it wouldn't do to show her changing mood.

"I _thought_ I was in love with Ron," Hermione corrected herself at the look the Auror gave her. "However, he was right in saying that I wasn't. I now know I've never really felt what it's like to be in love."

"Yeah, _okay_," Judy teased, a smirk evident on her freckled face. Hermione, still blushing heavily, opened the door to her rooms and entered, Judy remaining just outside the door. Just as she tossed her bag onto her bed, she turned around with a smart-mouthed retort only to find that the door had been quickly shut in the Auror's face. Micah Hallam was grinning wickedly at her. He started toward her, his words preventing her oncoming panic.

"Come, Hermione." His was voice soft, smooth, and controlling. "I have something I need to do with you. It can't wait any longer."

With a touch of his hand, Micah pulled Hermione into the depths of the shadows. She felt her stomach churn, knowing they would all be frantic at her sudden, unexplained departure. She had little time, however, to worry about it. In a blink, they were transported to the grounds of Hogwarts where the dew-soaked grassed licked longingly at Hermione's shoes.

The stars shone brightly above as Micah led Hermione across the immense grounds. This time there were no Aurors patrolling; the grounds felt dead and uninhabited beside the castle that towered above them. It felt like a graveyard. The stillness of the night made Hermione's spine tingle; the hairs on her elongated neck stood up alarmingly.

Once again, she was brought to the Whomping Willow. Yet, this time, faint glowing orbs hung around the area and a small path she didn't remember led to the trunk of the tree. There a small, white arch waited solemnly for them.

Hermione's eyes closed as she shivered, feeling magic flow about her body as Micah disappeared from her side. When she opened her eyes again, it was to see that she was dressed in an elaborate white gown. The straps were of silk, a long train flowed gracefully behind her. _What was going on?_

Nervous as she was, her hands clenched involuntarily, crushing the stems of the white lilies in her hands. _White lilies?_ And what was a priest doing near the arch? Where had he come from? And Micah… he was waiting for her under the archway, dressed in all black, his yellow eyes shining brightly.

She felt agitated as she made her way towards him. Faint, mind-numbing music played all around her form as though it was pulling her towards him. She decided to obey its pull beneath the half moon of the dark night sky.

Step by small step she took, feeling her spine once again tingle as she looked at Micah. His face was alit with an unknown emotion. She hesitated in her steps, regretfully wondering what kind of game they were playing. A concept came to mind and she wanted to smile. _What a quaint little game they were dancing playfully in_, she thought. But she withheld her grin, considering it best to remain serious. She tried hard not to imagine the looks on the Order members' faces if they caught them and came to the wrong conclusions.

_Surely_ Remus would be jealous if he thought she was going to _marry _Micah. Wouldn't he? She frowned. Perhaps; perhaps not. Anxiety flooded her veins and tension tightened her muscles.

She continued past the rows of empty seats, wondering if this was all a rehearsal, a role play for his intention to one day marry her. She stopped and stood next to Micah, and turned to acknowledge the priest before them. A gruesome sight met her eyes, one of a rotting corpse clad in a tattered green robe, a thick tome in his skeletal hands. _Inferi?_

"We gather here this evening," the corpse moaned loudly, its jaw moving to the rhythm of the Muggle phrase. Her peripheral vision caught the sudden appearance of their witnesses; formal-clad Inferi were seated as guests, their manner subdued and solemn.

Hermione felt a scream rise in her throat, but Micah realized her intent and grabbed her hand in support. He squeezed tenderly, drawing her attention back to him. Something in his gaze quelled her cry, and she remained mute.

The dead priest droned on, and Hermione realized that they might not be truly playing a game. Was this real? Did he really intend to marry her? A panic seized her and her lips formed a violent protest when she heard Micah utter, "I do". She saw the look of happiness upon his face, and she cringed. How could she cause him further pain? How could she destroy his happiness, if she herself could never have such joy? Guilt rattled her, his reassuring smile propelling her to seal her fate and silently whisper, "I do."

She barely heard the words 'bride' or 'kiss', but when Micah lowered his head to hers, she felt compelled to kiss him back. His arms joyfully wrapped around her, draping her in his long, black cloak. But her awkwardness continued to cling to her as they walked back down the aisle, the Inferi gone before she could manage to get a good look at their rotting flesh.

She tried hard to bring up the positive things instead of the negative floating around in her head. But as they reached the end of the aisle, all she could think positive was that she positively wanted him to drop her off at her room in Hogwarts and leave her alone for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, before she could suggest this thought, he led her from the known path and instead into the dark, eerie Forbidden Forest.

As they traveled deeper and deeper into the forest, Hermione noticed they did not meet a single other creature. Not one. She began to wonder if the beings of the dark were just as scared of Hallam as was.

Many minutes later, they reached what Hermione suspected was the core of the dark forest. To her pleasant surprise there was a small clearing of insect-free grassy ground.

She turned to Micah. He smiled warmly at her before falling immaturely onto the grass, dragging her with him to the ground. She squealed, falling ungracefully into his relaxed being. Catching his bright, wide smile, she felt compelled to force herself to return the gesture, however hesitantly.

Trying to compensate for the hollowness Remus had left in her, they kissed once more. It was rather sweet and innocent, totally opposite of what she had been expecting. As she felt the heat radiate from his body and warm hers, she began to wonder what would have happened if Myra hadn't betrayed Micah.

What if he had come back for her and Eucken was truly his son? Would they be in the situation they were in now? She didn't think so. And if that was the case, was Micah only using her to compensate for the loss of Myra? Somehow she was sure.

Fighting away the painful realization, she stopped their kiss and looked deeply into his bright yellow eyes. With only a look, could she tell if she loved him? Or was he also only a substitute, a fill-in for the emptiness within her?

His eyes shone with compassion and fulfillment. Perhaps that was all she could hope for. Diminishing the space between them once more, she briefly wondered if he would fill the hole in her heart if she could manage to force herself to care for him as he did her. But then the thought passed as she gathered her Gryffindor bravery and took action, hoping she find happiness through force of will.

She returned his kiss with energy, hoping to erase any lingering images in her mind that longed for another… another time, another place, another man. All the what-ifs and what-could-have-beens were no longer valid. It was only here and now that matter, she thought as he rolled her over onto the grass.

But through each passionate kiss she accepted from Micah, one image sustained life. No matter her intention, she could still see the rage and jealousy on Remus' face should he ever catch them. And worse, it was that visual that held her entranced, that mattered more than that night – or even a lifetime – with Micah.

* * *

In the very early morning, Micah, his smile wider than Hermione had ever seen it, brought her back into the castle. He dropped her off very near her beloved library, leaving her with only a nod of farewell and her own weary senses to navigate back to her rooms unnoticed. Her body protested every move, its muscles aching from his relentless loving into the wee morning. She silently prayed Filch or Mrs. Norris weren't anywhere near; she really didn't think she'd be able to escape them, and she couldn't bear any more scolding. 

The sun barely peaked the lower window sills surrounding her. The birds chirped happily nearby, gracefully swooping down from their nests in search of misplaced and broken twigs. Dark silhouetted trees stood blatant against the strange array of spattered watercolors of the sky. The scene about her drew her attention from her situation, allowing a brief reprieve from the questions and implications the evening created.

Against her will, a smile played at her lips at the remembrance of the evening before. Her conscious mind declared it a horrific mistake, but her body was oddly satisfied. While betrayal seeped through her veins like foul poison, physical gratification had already drugged her brain and controlled her thoughts.

Though she felt completely, sickly dirty, a part of her that had been empty since Ron's betrayal felt full again. She had received love, perhaps really for the first time. Ron had never loved her; it had always been her who was giving, never receiving. But did that make last night right? _Was_ all fair and love and war?

The stone floors froze her bare feet, her shoes having been lost in the forest. She glanced down, noting the stains upon her gown. Those, however, were not lost. And she doubted the stains in her memory would ever disappear, either.

Hermione shook off the feelings and concentrated on her current state. She was dirty, cold, and hungry. First stop, she decided, would be the kitchens to nick some breakfast. If she told them not to, the house elves wouldn't speak a word of her visit, and right now she needed time and distance from all involved in her life.

Just as she was heading down the corridor to the ticklish pear, she caught sight of Judy. Unfortunately, the Auror caught clear sight of her, too. She was caught.

Something tugged unselfishly at her, like a toddler on her mother's dress. Judy's face was etched in pain as she raced towards Hermione as though the latter was the Auror's own lost child. Her dull orange hair was askew and hung limply and tangled from its bun.

"_Hermione!_ Oh, dear lord, there you are!" She pulled Hermione into a tight embrace, sobbing hysterically. "I was searching everywhere – everyone else was, too! Oh, I'm so glad I found you! Everyone's been worried sick about you!"

Before Hermione could think up a quick excuse that she knew wouldn't make sense, Judy grabbed her hand and towed her purposely to the one place she'd tried her hardest to avoid – Gryffindor Tower.

Words of regret refused to form in her mouth, and Hermione's dull brown eyes only expressed tears of remorse as she allowed Judy to pull her along. The older woman was excited, happy at finding Hermione, and the latter could only foresee the distrust and hurt she was about to bestow on her protectors.

"Hiccupping Tulips," Judy stated, and they entered the Gryffindor domain. Hermione knew her fate was sealed as she met the familiar faces of Professor McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody, Professor Eucken, and Professor Sprout. She tried to act natural and calm, but the worried look Sprout gave her said she'd failed miserably.

"I found her in the corridor just off the Charms classrooms!" Judy said ecstatically, finally releasing Hermione's hand.

The former Head Girl could feel her arm lifelessly fall to hang at her side. It was how she felt at the moment: cold, lifeless and incomplete. It was as if last night now had no significance in front of these judges. They didn't feel the emotions she felt, they didn't understand her desperate need for the warmth of love. And they definitely didn't know the regret tied heavily to her heart. If they had known, they would have sympathized; if they had gone through what she had, they would have understood everything.

But they didn't.

Abruptly Remus sat down in a nearby chair and spoke. "Why's the ring still on you?" His question made her heart sink. Her face fell, knowing her answer would only disappoint him.

"Good question," Moody growled, his eyes boring into her. For once, he wasn't hunched over, but standing strong and proud. It frightened her seeing him appear so menacing. Is this what he had looked like in his youth when he was catching Death Eaters for pay?

"She's fine, what does it matter?" Judy cut in. Her cheer was slowly beginning to weaken at the looks everyone gave her. Hermione was thankful to Judy's support and wanted to show it, but she knew it wasn't time or place.

"'_What does it matter?_' Have you gone completely nutters, woman?" Eucken cried. He paused in mid-step toward them, the look Moody giving him enough of a deterrent. Instead, he grasped the back of Remus' chair, feeling the need to anchor himself of his own accord. He glanced toward Remus. The werewolf looked distant, contemplative.

"I have not, you filthy bag of trash!" Judy spat, her eyes burning with hatred.

"Oh, what harsh words! I think the best insult you've come up with was the bit about the flobberworm and how mine was distinctly inferior compared to the real thing."

A flush spread across the Irish woman's face, but it didn't stop her from replying.

"You're the harsher critic known! What was it you called me? '_A lousy bag of hay that didn't know when to keep its mouth shut and mind its own business. _' Wasn't that the gist of it? And it's _bundles _of hay, not _bags_, you imbecile!"

"As if you know anything significant in any way, shape, or form, you incompetent baby! Why don't you just go roll into a ball and cry for everyone to see? How pitifully disgusting!"

"Ha! You hypocritical bastard! _Me, _pitifully disgusting? Let's take a look at your winning life, shall we? Or should we just send you back to that brothel you've been heading to lately? I'm sure we all can mutually agree it's the only thing you're good for."

"As if you know anything! The only thing _you're _good for is failing! You've never been able to stand up to anything without weeping in the end!" He sneered, continuing more harshly. "And to let you know, you're not even good _in bed_!"

Judy's eyes began to tear again, and Sprout moved to comfort her. Judy turned her face away from the group, and Eucken held a smug face. It was short lived, however.

Pushing the Herbology professor aside, Judy lunged at Eucken, her bitten-off nails extended for his throat. They collided and both fell to the floor, Judy's nails sinking deeply into the skin of his neck.

It seemed an eternity before action was taken, and Moody and McGonagall pulled Judy from her attack on Euken. The Auror looked as though she'd just exited the depths of her own internal hell; Euken looked shaken, but uninjured. He rubbed his throat as Professor Sprout ran to check over his bruises, but he angrily slapped her hand away and turned his head from the group. _When did the adults begin to hate each other to the point of lunging at each other's throats?_ Hermione wondered.

"This isn't how things were supposed to happen," Remus said, his voice hoarse and low from his seated position. The room fell silent as they all suddenly remembered his presence.

"You can say that again," McGonagall sighed, speaking for the first time. A heavy weight seemed to reside on her shoulders, dampening her stern continence.

"Nothing makes sense. Why would Hallam return the ring to her overnight?" Remus murmured half to himself as he stood up and began to pace. His long legs strode about restlessly as he continued to talk to himself. "If he is the man we all know, he'd publicly announce it or make a rather big deal about it. But why…?"

Remus stopped abruptly and moved to Hermione. Snatching up her left hand, he studied the ominous ring intently, a scowl forming between his brows.

"Why is it not on _this_ finger?" he whispered, tapping the scarred one that once held the ring. Hermione's heart sank and she hoped that no one had heard Remus. No such luck.

Giving Sprout's hand one final slap, Eucken rushed to Remus' side to join the interrogation. Hermione shivered as her professor grabbed her hand and he, too, began to examine it.

"No…" Eucken whispered hoarsely, surprisingly bringing her hand close to his chest and looking up at her with his dark, forbidding eyes. "You couldn't've!"

Realization dawned on the werewolf's face, and Hermione knew they had figured out what had happened last night. How could she have told them or even known? At first, she had thought Micah was just playing a rather weird game…

"You _married **him?**_" Eucken yelled, his dark eyes wide as he squeezed her hand tightly. His hair was askew and his five o'clock shadow pronounced his brooding look. Something about this made her remember the last time she was able to see his facial expressions morph so quickly, was able to see his face so closely. She had been in the tower after she had found Ron cheating on her…

Eucken suddenly released her hand as Moody pushed roughly past both Eucken and Lupin. He reached Hermione quickly and slapped her hard across the face, sending her crashing into a small table nearby. The impact sent an expensive red and gold vase to the floor with her, shards of porcelain embedding themselves in her hand as she reached about blindly for purchase.

Before she could help herself up, she was drug to her feet and shoved roughly onto the nearby couch. She threw her arms up to cover her face, chancing their protection from another of Moody's strikes. But it didn't come. Peering between her arms, she saw Remus force Moody away from her, his lithe body struggling with the angry ex-Auror. With the werewolf occupied, Eucken took his turn and grabbed her arms, forcing her to her feet.

"Answer me: why did you let him do that to you? **Why?**" he bellowed, shaking her harshly. He grabbed her hand and began to pry the yellow ring from her finger. Failing to dislodge it, he began to shake her angrily as if trying to release the frustration welled up inside him. "You stupid, bloody bitch! **Why**?"

She froze at his words, wondering why he was acting so harshly. If it was a mistake (and she now didn't doubt it), then it was her mistake to remedy. Why did he care so much? She felt nauseated by his continuous physical abuse; his verbal attacks pounded in her ears.

"You let him fuck you, didn't you? It's the only way to make a marriage complete, isn't it?" His face grew redder and more contorted. "You shagged him, didn't you, you – you desperate little – little _bitch!_"

"That's enough!" Remus yelled, his own rage now overruling everyone else's. He pulled Eucken off of Hermione, tossing him to the side. "She's eighteen years old! She's old enough to make her own decisions. Just let her be!"

"But she's _still_ under my protection," Eucken protested.

"She's under _my _protection," Remus corrected, boldly grabbing Hermione and drawing her to him in a protective move. "I won't tolerate this nonsense. She's a student, Edmund, not a _rag doll _you can all take your frustration out on."

Remus looked at everyone's face directly to make his point. Hermione, on the other hand, tried to avoid meeting anyone's eyes, still emotionally unprepared for the burden they were going to lay on her. She didn't even dare to look into her savior's eyes, afraid of his rejection.

But she needn't have worried, as he never offered her the chance. Instead, he steered her toward the stairs, escorting her quickly and directly to her rooms upstairs.

Once the door was sealed shut, his hands abruptly let go of her battered arm. Hermione hesitantly brought her gaze up to his weary blue eyes. His returning gaze was empty, his lips thinned to a stretched line on his aging face. He looked beaten, tired. She cringed inwardly, knowing she had caused this worn appearance. He nodded toward the bathroom door.

"Go clean up; you don't look too well." His voice was hollow. "I'll go in shortly to give you your clothes."

She could only nod and obey his polite commands. Slowly and carefully, she walked to the bathroom, feeling his eyes on the back of her bushy, twig-covered hair. She took her time in closing the door, drawing comfort in the familiar old creak of the rusty hinges.

After she made sure that she was situated with everything, she climbed into the running shower before Remus could barge in. His presence would only make her feel even dirtier than she already did, bringing along with it the surge of guilt and betrayal. She didn't need that now. No, she was feeling horrible enough as it was, thank you very much.

She stood motionless in the shower, her dirty and bloodied body receiving the burning spray with the acceptance of both resignation and gratitude. Heavy steam rose into the air, floating about the room like a sailor's evening fog, thick and damp with moisture. Her muscles began to relax, her sore tendons eased out from their scrunched up positions. With a sickening feeling, she watched the dirt, twigs, and dead bugs race down the drain. Her stomach turned and her eyes burned in sick satisfaction.

"Hermione?" An echo of her name resounded against the tile, and she carefully stuck her head out of the shower to see Remus' tired face peek from just behind the bathroom door. "I'm going to leave your clothes and towel on the floor. Just call if you need me."

His voice was once again empty, void of emotion. She nodded in conformation and worried at the distant look on his eyes held. But he said nothing, simply retreating from the entryway, leaving her to her own crucifying thoughts.

She sighed, turning to reach for the soap. Her motions were automatic, leaving her mind free to analyze and chastise. She lost sight of her past cheerfulness, reflecting only on the condemnation she brought on herself. In this past year, her joy had been faked, forced, but she missed it nonetheless.

Though the pleasure Micah had given her had been wonderful, it was obvious now that his love wasn't what she wanted. And through the thick gloom of her new depression, Hermione began to wonder about the feelings she had, without notice, pushed forcefully aside long ago.

* * *

Thanks again, everyone! 


	27. Chapter 27: Forbidden Fruit

**_All_ _That_ _is Wrong_**

**Chapter 27 -- Forbidden Fruit**

Hermione Granger walked down the corridor with Remus behind her, inspecting the empty hallways around them. She was heading to the library and she knew the only reason she wasn't being followed by a party of Order members was because Remus had more than likely forcefully told them to back off.

That would explain his pensive face and his hand shoved into his pocket, where he chose to always kept his wand (unless it was up his sleeve). Everyone was sorely disappointed with her, and it didn't make her feel any better when once again Remus had to defend her in front of Professor McGonagall and the others. Shortly thereafter Remus had made her stay in her room. Even so, she overheard him telling them that she was old enough to do whatever she wanted and that it could be a valuable opportunity to stop Micah Hallam once and for all.

But something was still irking her as she waved to a group of younger Hufflepuffs talking in a close-knit group with Justin. They all waved back, more than likely due to Justin's respect for her. But she noticed something: there weren't any Aurors or Order members. Anywhere.

She was still missing something vital - maybe the big picture? - and it bugged her as she entered the library's domain, guarded heavily by the obsessive Madam Pince.

Finding the perfect table right by a large window showing the sparkling lake, Hermione sat down into the wooden chair and slung her pack around so she could sift easily through it. Remus, in a rather cautious manner, sat down across from her.

Realization dawned on her after she found her quill: this table was the same exact one that she had seen a much younger Regulus seated at. She remembered from her dream that it was when Micah had told his best friend that Myra Simmons was pregnant.

Hermione wanted to gasp in what she guessed would become some sort of bitter irony, if possible, but stifled it with a glance at Remus. He was looking around the library in an agitated manner.

Something was not right, and she frowned at seeing the other students take glances every now and then at the bright windows and open doors. It was as if they were afraid something was going to pop up at them like a Jack-in-the-Box. What would they know that she, the Head Girl, didn't?

"I'll be right back," Hermione announced, jolting Remus alive from his stupor-like state. All he did was nod and begin to scour the place as if he was Mrs. Weasley, himself searching for any dirty pots and pans.

She stood up and walked over to the aisles, all the while murmuring about where she would find the perfect book with the right information for her Transfiguration essay. Casually, she walked around, her Head Girl badge glimmering and flashing in the morning sun. However, while she was somewhat cheerful, she could sense that all of the students who scurried by weren't.

Taking a glance behind her, she felt unseen eyes watch her as she continued down the aisle in her search. Just as she was about to grab a book _Transfiguration and the Physics Behind It_, heavy and large boots raced by her, causing her to wheel around in question. She pulled her wand out as dozens of older wizards and witches raced by down the aisles.

But her attempts to protect herself and others were deemed fruitless as she was pinned to the bookcase from behind. Large, bulky hands that she just knew weren't Remus' had her arms pinned to her sides and her face and body squished roughly and painfully against the volumes of books.

"_Oui!_ That's the Head Girl, that is," a cool, cocky voice cried. She heard a pair of boots, distinct amongst the others, walk towards her. She was about to panic; she couldn't get a look at her attackers or defend herself. She heard Remus yelling from all the way across the library, but her heart sank at hearing his voice fade away. She growled heavily and dangerously and began to put all of her effort in thrashing around, trying to rid herself of this barbarian's grip. She was able to loosen the brute's grip just enough to pull out her wand and stun him.

Seizing the chance while it was still fresh, she raced to the end of the aisle. She just had to get to Remus before those people could…she just _had to_...

But something grabbed the back of her blouse with ease.

She screamed out Remus' name, knowing that it was probably in vain. But she shouted as loud as she could for as long as she could. His named echoed and drawled out throughout the library. She could see the other invaders force the students to cooperate by laying huddled on the floor.

Before Hermione knew it, she was thrown harshly back into the bookcase. It trembled threateningly. Desperate to get to Remus' protection, though, she wheeled around with a stunning spell, hit several more. She ran over the stunned bodies of both captors and terrified students.

When she realized that Remus wasn't down the hall as she expected or fighting ruthlessly, she turned around to see her two attackers: a rather tall, lanky man with hair just like Remus', and a large, muscular man with no hair.

Rage exploded within her, a need for revenge for harming her fellow students. She gripped her wand purposefully and immediately began to stun more of the attackers, focusing on those guarding the students.

Their war-like uniforms suggested they weren't Voldemort's men. But if not, who were they? Mercenaries, maybe?

Once she had their attention, she proceeded to hex and curse the others treating the students harshly. She lost track of where her original two attackers were, but she was more intently focused on battling those unwelcome people before her.

With a sense of pleasure and pride, she noticed that the students were rebelling as well and were hexing, stunning, and jinxing people as best as they could. She climbed onto the tables to get the advantage and encourage the students to fight back. But someone grabbed her from behind, and she plummeted into cold, strong arms.

"That's enough," a smooth voice commanded. Hermione panicked. She did not know that voice. She continued to struggle, kicking and flailing her legs around everywhere for help on her part. A rough hand slapped her clear across the face. She ricocheted back into the man holding her. Why were people being so aggressive to her these days?

Cold, cruel, and deep laughter echoed from these mercenaries' throats, humiliating her; blood cascaded down her burning face.

"The little runt's spent, I'd think," the man holding her said calmly before throwing her onto the wooden table. She gasped at the collision into the table and knew she was going to get unwelcome splinters. "Well, is this the best this place has got to offer? No wonder they really need us…"

"_Captain Couperin!_" a voice growled out venomously. Hermione felt her body tingle at knowing the familiar voice. She groaned in pain before lifting herself up to see Eucken and Remus both looking quite vicious and beyond furious. Eucken himself looked too articulate with shock and anger to voice his rage.

"Why, our little love triangle is now complete," the man with the smooth voice said. Hermione guessed this was the Captain of the troops.

"Your authority does not include frightening and abusing the students. The same students, I might add, you are hired to protect," Remus added loudly over the Captain's voice. This of course, had many glares being sent into his direction from the uniformed people. "And I dearly suggest you do not do that in the future."

"Refraining from testing out this school's lack of acceptance of the war will only become a weakness," the Captain remarked. He grabbed Hermione, who was too busy engrossed in their conversation to flail about her body aimlessly. "And by playing favorites, things won't work out as we plan it to."

"Having the audacity to hurt the school's top student isn't what we'd call being a hero and it certainly isn't playing…_favorites_," Remus growled, his fists clenched up in a threat that she herself found to be quite intimidating. If Hermione hadn't known Remus as well as she did, she would have assumed he was truly her jealous lover"Nor do we find the means of…_slaughter_ a suitable battle ground tactic."

This seemed to have hit the Captain below the belt for his grip on her only hardened and the other mercenaries' scowls only deepened considerably. The students watched the exchange with interest, their gapes only turning into befuddled faces. They remained silent.

"I'll say you have courage, Lupin, but that doesn't make my view of you change," the Captain remarked smoothly before adding dangerously, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Or your kind."

This seemed to hit Remus in a sensitive spot; he stiffened. Hermione watched with logical interest and emotional fear as the Captain then took out a Muggle pocketknife and placed it threateningly next to her long and trembling neck. She whimpered and was too focused on the knife to notice that for once the students who watched were fearful for someone other than themselves.

But something, or rather _someone_, whispered into her ear, encouraging her.

"_You can defend yourself, my love. Do it for me…"_

She recognized the voice as Micah's and began to wonder how he did that without being noticed by the others. They were intently watching the Captain's daring and bold movements, and thus her as well. But she took into consideration his words. Did he really have the confidence to believe in her like that?

While the Captain was busy in a staring contest with Remus and about to say something presumably cocky, she took her chance and angrily slammed her petite foot into her holder's huge right boot. This, of course, triggered the response she was looking for and she freed herself from his tight hold.

Avoiding the swinging and still deadly pocketknife, she began to sprint away from him and uncoordinatedly into Remus' open and ready arms. Eerily, she turned in time to watch as the Captain, laughing wickedly and huddled over, rose up to a standing position. He quickly put the pocketknife back into one of the many pockets of his trousers' waistband and watched her trembling and fearful form.

"The little runt she is!" he cried cheerfully. "Maybe what I heard is the truth; all she does is get herself into trouble. And to think that the _Head_ _Girl_ would be so troublesome!"

"You have a report to make with the Headmistress," Remus reminded him rather icily. His grip on her tightened in protection. She shivered, wondering how Remus had become such a great actor.

With one last chuckle, the Captain left, his crew trailing disappointedly behind.

* * *

"Who _were _they?" Hermione asked in the safety of her Head Girl rooms with Remus lounging leisurely in his chair. The sky outside seemed blacker than black. She felt oddly comfortable in the room alone with him.

"Mercenaries; paid ones of course," Remus replied. He took a loud bite into the shiny green apple he had stolen from dinner. She could hear his teeth gnash the juicy fruit, and her stomach grumbled jealously. It was then she realized she was also jealous of him, the lonely and banished werewolf; how could be so easily comfortable with his life? She wasn't.

She studied him as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing along the curve of his aging throat. His words aroused her from her thoughts. "Professor McGonagall has to hire them, as the Ministry's recalling Aurors back to the Ministry. They need them for the war."

"That's rather intriguing, considering it is _May_ and school's over in a month," she pointed out, greedily stealing the apple from his clutches and taking a bite. If she could have something of his, it might as well be his apple.

He playfully glared at her; she couldn't help but smile smugly, But at the same time she felt so _naked_ under her gaze. How was it that with his eyes alone could make her feel so self-conscious? Her heart pulsed nervously.

Even though she knew Micah Hallam watched her at night – to ensure she wasn't cheating on him – she couldn't help but feel dirty and disgusting. And it didn't help that she couldn't take the ring off of her finger; it reminded her painfully of the fate she had unknowingly chosen for herself and others as well.

"Just because it's going to be bloody summer, it doesn't mean that the war is going to be over," he said honestly as she took another large bite into his kidnapped apple. "Problems don't just go away."

"Make them," she playfully replied, noticing him eye the apple in her hand. Inside, she was begging him to do _something_ to make her problems go away.

She looked directly at him, trying hard to tell him to make her problems dissipate. He returned her look, first blankly and then smugly.

"If you give me that apple, I'll get rid of your problems."

She couldn't help but grin at him and want to laugh. Still, inside of her, she was screaming at him to _do_ _something_ besides joke around. He acted as if Hallam wasn't as big a threat in her life.

With amazingly fast reflexes, Remus took hold of both the apple and her hand, forcing Hermione close to his face. She felt his breath on her face, sweet, warm and mind tingling. Their lips were so close to touching, the space hovering between them small – almost nonexistent yet infinite at the same time.

Was this his way of telling her what she should do to make her life better, and less problem-infested?

She reasoned that he was just being silly. Another part of her argued, though, that normally he would have pushed her away and simply stolen the apple back. Something was off about this little incident. It was as if… as if his intentions were more than innocent.

She blushed heavily but felt no shame for the feelings she held for him, feelings she had tucked away long ago like a sleep-heavy child being tucked in for a nap. She didn't mind that he was twenty years her senior or that he was a werewolf. Bloody hell, she didn't care who had a nasty opinion about it; the tension and the unbearable questions she had hidden rather well even from herself was the breaking point.

Ready to rush past everything and willingly feel her emotions with the kiss she desperately desired, she drew her breath raggedly, anticipating.

The angry pounding on the door broke them immediately apart with a jump. Remus' grip on her releasing as if she burnt his skin. The forbidden fruit rested lifelessly in his clutches.

She raced to the door to answer the repeated request for approval of intrusion. She paused to catch her unsteady breath before swinging the door open. _Nothing happened_, she reminded herself.

Standing grimly in the forbidding light of the staircase was Captain Couperin. His hair, like Remus' scruffy and unkempt style, was hanging limply from a rubber band that seemed to have been tied from previous wreckages. His gloves, stained with blood of previous souls, twitched, as if to reach to his belt and draw out a weapon.

His nerves seemed to settle as she voiced a greeting as pleasantly as she possibly could. What she really wanted to do was strangle him, return to Remus and finally break past what they'd been holding back.

But she didn't get a chance to do that. From an unprovoked anger, he pushed her away from the doorway by her throat, scaring her as he entered the room.

Her breath was labored, though his hands were gone from her throat. She saw from the corner of her eyes that Remus silently stood, his wand and the apple in his hands. The shock of the Captain's actions had her heart constrict cruelly and her throat close briskly.

"Captain, I would like to know the meaning of this-," Remus began, his eyes never leaving the Captain's lazily gaze.

"I'm just searching around, Lupin," the Captain sneered, his voice sounding odd at the tone he used. He began to walk around the room, eyeing the neat floors and tidied dresser.

Hermione felt her face burn in embarrassment at the display of personal, intimate items lying about in the open. She was so used to having Remus in her room that it didn't matter whether he saw a piece of underwear once in a while left behind by the House Elves or a rather revealing notation she made from a book that was more than likely banned from her sight.

It didn't help that she herself was on display, her ruddy gown making her feel quite naked once again.

Remus opened his mouth to speak again, but the Captain overrode him, remarking, "It's a necessary precaution when in war, as if you didn't know. It's easier to know your surroundings than your enemies', especially when we're dealing with what we are. And I at least have a lot of catching up to do, if you don't mind."

Though Hermione thought it was all rather logical, Remus didn't and asked, "And what makes you think that I can't do what is asked for?"

"Ah, such a Lupin you are, defensive in unmarked and rather…_personal_ territory."

Hermione watched with interest, seeing Remus freeze up and give a scowl. It seemed that they knew each other well and were sending things she didn't understand to one another. It was their own little battle between them, one with sophisticated words instead of physical battle.

"And you, a man of very little words, think it necessary to intrude into this when it's none of your business?" Remus inquired, his shoulders relaxing. "Such a Couperin to think that they have to be in the middle of everything when they're in the middle of nothing."

The Captain narrowed his eyes before looking at her elongated mirror and turning back to Remus.

"You're only here because of the money," Remus added, his eyes narrowing a bit, looking like the wolf she knew him to be every full moon. "I find it highly unusual that you of all people would go out of your way to tackle something you weren't paid for."

"It's true I'm only here to fight You-Know-Who, but we need all the help we can get. You should know that, above all people."

Hermione watched and waited, fixated on Remus' face, set and stern. Her fingers itched to turn his scowl, but she stood where she was now that she could finally breathe again.

"Attacking people won't help you make friends," the werewolf spoke, his hand gently holding the green apple as if it were a porcelain vase.

"We'll see," the Captain said before he walked out of the room, sparing neither of them a second glance.

The door's shutting sealed everything that had happened, letting awkwardness creep uncomfortably around them. She stared at Remus, hoping he would correct his ungentlemanly-like behavior or continue the events of before.

He did neither. Instead, he put the browning fruit onto the table beside her bed and spoke, his back turned and his voice hollow once more.

"I think you should go to bed."

Her Gryffindor nature wanted to protest, but his retreat into the bathroom prevented her from doing so, the shutting of the creaking door behind him putting an end to any discussion. Why he was acting so distant now? Was he was having second thoughts about their almost actions? Or had the Captain said something to Remus that had hurt, making him withdraw to lick his wounds?

This greatly disturbed her as she sat onto the lonely bed and stared at the ring on her finger. With distaste, she remembered Micah's bonding with her, the night they had shared. Her body went numb and tears began to fall, though she neither noticed nor cared.

She realized that things were very different now. But she couldn't bring herself to recall them all, knowing if she did so she would have to prepare herself for a tossing-and-turning night. Instead, she tucked herself into her own bed.

She closed her eyes only when she was too tired to think anymore.

* * *

Ah! _Another_ OC? I must be out of my mind...

Thanks to **princess-of-d-c** for the anonymous review!


	28. Chapter 28: Unpleasant Arrangements

Holy cow, look at this! An update! They seem so _rare_ don't they?

I know, I am indeed quite the horrible _female_ _dog_, but just so you all know, my lovely and loyal readers and reviewers: I will NEVER abandon anything of my own creation! And I intend to fix up all the mistakes I made in the past chapters (concerning seperating lines or whatever they are.)

I thank all of you for waiting so patiently; I really don't deserve such lovely folks such as yourself. (Wow, I butter all of you up good, don't I?) :) But you all love it, yeahh!

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**Dedication - **tothe** lovely and loyal readers and reviewers:** I dedicate this chapter to you! You all deserve it so much, so I'm bringing this back to those who want it! 

**Disclaimer** - the Harry Potter and Co. and I have been engaging in a terrible row, back and forth. It might explain why this update took so long; I was glued to the phone, hoping they'd call me or I'd get the courage to call them and apologize. Harry Potter and Co, I am indeed sorry for mistreating you and borrowing Remus and Hermione too much, too often.

**_

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_**

**_All That is Wrong_**

**Chapter 28 -- Unpleasant Arrangements**

'_Wake up.'_

She rolled over in her bed and groaned.

'_Hermione, wake up.'_

The silhouette of something dark appeared before her closed eyes. The figure drew nearer and nearer…

'_Hermione.'_

Pitch black. Bright yellow eyes.

'_Hermione!'_

She shrieked and sat up, her eyes wide and fearful. _Breathe_ _deeply_, she hummed. She was about to calm down and tell herself it was just some rather disturbing dream when she heard the same eerie voice speak within her mind.

'_Grab the knife, Hermione.'_

Her hand disobeyed her conscience; it grabbed a large, sharp knife from the table next to her tangled mess of a bed. But shame for obeying Micah's demands pressed her to throw it to the ground, and as she moved to do so, his voice erupted in her mind once more.

'_Walk away from the bed.'_

Her feet obeyed. Inside she shrieked. Why she should listen to him?

'_You have to do this for me, Hermione. He's only going to get in the way and it's better that doesn't happen. Do this for me now and prove to me… prove to me…'_

She felt her brain begin to fog as her grip on the knife tightened. The ancient wooden floor creaked against her bare feet; her spine tingled in odd anticipation of what was to come next.

As she began to question his limitless motives, a block resided itself snugly within her nerves. She couldn't force herself to stop and reason things logically with him. Panic ensured her form as her body continued its dreary, uncontrollable mission. She couldn't stop, but she was painfully able to see what was happening.

_Breathe_, she commanded again. Mental control, at least, was on her side and could help her as it had countless times before. She began to plead and question Micah about what she needed to prove to him. What _was _there to prove? He had her body and soul to twist and break and silently molest while others could do nothing to help. Even the fates.

What more did he wish for her to do? Micah's voice came back suddenly.

'_Kill him, Hermione. Kill him.'_

Her feet stopped walking. Hermione then noticed she was right in front of Remus, his sleeping form curled in his chair. Under normal circumstances, she would have laughed at the ventriloquism he was performing in what he was calling a sleeping position. But nothing about this was normal; she'd been sent to slaughter him like a pig.

She wanted to scream - scream and do whatever she could to stop her hand from its assault. She needed to wake Remus somehow or stop herself from doing something regretful, forced though it may be. She was reminded of the time those bullies in primary school forced her to do their homework. But still, it was nothing compared to the knife in her hand, aimed to harm her mentor and protector.

She tried – oh, how hard she _tried_ – to make her arm halt in its rise. It was almost as if her pleas were heard; the hand she hardly considered hers stopped.

'_Kill him.'_

She tried to block his voice out and concentrate only on stopping her uncontrollable body. Sweat agonizingly crawled down her back and the valley between her breasts. Her eyes closed; _focus…_

'_Kill him **now**!_'

Seconds passed. It felt an eternity. Then the knife was suddenly hurling towards Remus.

But like a switch, the power came on. She tilted herself, angling just enough to send her arm crashing into the mattress. She barely missed amputating her own leg, but it didn't matter – Remus was safe! She broke out in dark laughter and sank to her knees. She still gripped the knife; the tears turned pitiful.

Removing the knife from the mattress, she looked at it in great detail for a moment, then dropped it abruptly. She didn't even trust herself. What if Hallam wanted her to attempt again? No…

_Speaking of the devil_…

She looked up to see a figure covered in black behind Remus. Narrow yellow eyes gazed at her figure sprawled wearily on the mattress. Long claws had vanished, giving way to sharp fingernails that still managed to cause her to shiver. Why was he – her lover, dare she say? – forcing her into such a tight and uncomfortable position? Oh, why?

Micah moved to stand over her. She felt his expression relax. She began to respond in kind, but too late she realized fury still was in him. He jerked her to her feet, never letting his grip loosen.

"Remus is my friend," she whimpered, feeling the need to defend herself. "Why?"

"He's more than a friend, isn't he?" he questioned. She could feel the stiffness coarse through his body and into hers. It was almost as if they were one again, almost as if they were just a mass of electrical wires pulsing rhythmically into each other's bodies.

"Don't even try to fool me." He leered above her. "Don't even think you can because I'll crush you before you can even begin to truly, _truly _understand your foolishness. I've faced it once before, remember?"

She spared a glance at the still dozing Remus and wondered how to answer her _husband's_, her supposed _devotion's, _question. She turned to Micah; only his eyes visible to her, uncomfortably so. How to answer and stamp out the rebellion inside of her? Was it even possible for Hermione Granger?

"I remember."

He wasn't satisfied with this answer and his eyes narrowed from suspicion.

"Friends don't come close to kissing each other nor do they think such _lurid_ thoughts about the other," he stated. She looked up at him in bemusement. Now he was going too far with his paranoia and conspiracies.

Before she could revolt, he angrily pushed her into the bed. Oh, how she feared that at that moment he'd do something _he'd _regret. But instead he turned away from her... almost as if she displeased him.

Pushing the inarticulateness aside, she raged.

"I'll admit that I almost kissed Remus, but you gave me no time to explain! Do you not have some compassion for me? I'm sorry I seem like some desperate, lustful woman, but what about _you_? You're never around nor are you ever there for me when I need you most! What makes you think that I'm going to just throw my life away, to step aside and play you out to be the bruised and broken victim when you're obviously the tyrant?"

Micah turned around, his expression edging slightly away from his furious demeanor. She glared at him in return, seated on the bed and still enraged at his actions. Boots squeaked against the wooden floor as he drew closer to her.

"There are some things I can ignore, but truly I cannot deny the fact that you're quite beautiful when you're angry. So passionate."

Her head angled away from his soft, cold hand. Her heart, however, beat quicker. She longed to purr under him and his blazing eyes and open mouth. She wanted to sweat out the passion he thought she so strongly held. To be that electrical machine they once had been, under the trees and the stars. To truly be his wife.

She should have cowered fully away, to give him the final impression this was not what she wanted. But knowing it would hurt him more than her, she let him sit beside her and edge closer to her.

"Hermione, I can't be with you all the time, but I promise things will change."

Looking at him was harder than she thought. Not because he was sore on the eyes (not that he truly ever was), but because she could see Remus. He still slept, even through the noise their arguments were growing into.

"I want you more than anything else in the world," he continued to say. She bit her lip and looked at the piercing yellow eyes. "Just let me prove it and show you that I love you."

She barely caught the sincerity in his eyes before he brought his lips to hers. Ironically, she silently prayed that Remus wouldn't awake and that things would definitely change…for better or for worse.

Micah pushed her gently to the bed and this time she couldn't help but let him glow and bask in his own passion and love. _Tight_. She held onto him until they both drifted off into darkness.

* * *

Hermione knew that making up the way they did was foreshadowing a rather unpleasant marriage. How silly the word was to her at age five and how serious it would become at age eighteen! 

She still couldn't grasp the fact that she was no longer Miss Granger. It was just something that she couldn't get rid of, like when the weekends whirled by and it was Monday again already.

School.

Micah.

The latter pressed against her bare back, his pale exposed flesh peaking and glowing within the corners of her softened eyes, his protective arm draped around her stomach, his head rested against the back of her shoulders and neck. Him.

The other him…

Hermione looked at Remus, whose sleeping form was right in her line of sight. She wanted to cry her eyes out. Instead she drew the sheets closer to her. As if a thin layer of cloth would hide him from her youthful curves…

She wished his eyes would flutter open and ban them from his sight. If only he would stalk away angrily, then proceed to throw up in the loo.

It would help her situation greatly; she'd be forced into Micah's arms, to forget about the werewolf and everything they had discussed and shared since he began to protect her against the very person she was cuddling with now.

Still…a part of her thought about the lovely, and rather satisfying and delightful, predicament of Remus waking up. Leaving Micah to be ignored as though dead, dragging her to the bathroom, ravishing her within an inch of her life…

_Just a thought_, she said to herself as her hibernating, rational self began to scold her thoughts. _Just a lovely and pleasurable thought_. _Just_.

She wondered how things unfolded to be as they were now. How did these people she knew become so active within her life? How had she become the wife of a man she hardly knew months ago? When did her chastity become ignored and forgotten?

A part of her wished that everything was back to the way it was; back when she was with Ron; when he didn't cheat on her; when Micah didn't exist, nor did Judy or Captain Couperin; when Remus was just her next object to fight for like S.P.E.W; when he didn't become an object of her infatuation.

Tears of regret pooled in her eyes, and all she wanted to do at this _very _moment was cuddle up, clothed or no, onto Remus' still sleeping form.

If something happened and Micah was forced away from her life, she'd still never have what she wanted. She was asking too much from one lonely and bruised werewolf who would never think of her in the way she wanted him to. It seemed she'd always get what she didn't want.

Quickly, she wiped her tears away as she felt Micah shift his lazy position. She had been too busy looking ahead to realize her behind was ignored. His skin clashed with hers; sweat from nerves sprung from her body.

Micah was still once more, only moving again to grip her hip harder and sigh against the back of her neck. After silence replaced his activities, she reasoned that he continued to sleep soundlessly. Her privacy renewed, she silently cried.

* * *

Remus awoke in the dark and had trouble focusing; Hermione must have finally gone to sleep. 

As his drunken hand slapped his face, he cringed at its whiskery properties. He apparently had slept for quite a while. Wondering at this, he stretched in the chair to soothe out the sore muscles of his aging body and flinched.

An unfamiliar yet very familiar noise made him freeze completely. He slowly turned into the dark. He watched with interest as a figure finished buttoning his trousers. But the figure turned around and noticed him. Bright yellow eyes.

Remus immediately groped around for his wand. He found it, but Micah was quicker and, by sidestepping into the shadows was able to swiftly kick at the arm of Remus' chair. Remus crashed loudly to the floor still within the chair, but he quickly maneuvered out of it.

Claws were threatening his throat as his wand leveled on Hallam's own protruding neck. Hermione, however, broke their battle with a muffled whimper as she turned over in the bed. Normally this would not have stopped their original intentions to hurt the other, but a long series of small, nearly silent sobs followed her cry. Not to mention that a part of the sheet began to exploit her feminine body…

Before Remus could memorize the moment for future pleasurable reference, Micah quickly covered her body. He seemed peeved at being caught. Remus finally absorbed the situation in the dark and felt embarrassed for being the one to catch them.

The werewolf watched silently; he felt awkward even breathing.

Micah then asked in the dark, "Why is she so sad when I'm around?"

Looking upon him as he towered over Hermione like a death omen, Remus didn't offer an answer. Quite frankly, he hadn't fully noticed true Hermione's behavior. Usually when Micah came around, he was more focused on protecting Hermione instead of recording her mood.

"She cries whenever she doesn't think I notice," the yellowed-eye man continued. "She cries for everything she doesn't have. And do you know what she doesn't have?"

Pity snagged Remus before he hollowly asked, "What?"

Micah sighed but didn't dare touch Hermione. She remained motionless. However, Remus could see the mark of dried tears on her flushed cheek.

"You," Hallam replied softly. He looked away from the bed, a reminder of unrequited love, and gazed out to the pitch-black sky. He stared as if it held all the answers to their burning desires and questions. "Why does she want you and not me? I offer her the world and I give her all the love I possess, but none of it is worth it to her."

"It is," Remus replied.

Jolting slightly at the reminder of the werewolf's presence, Micah looked at him, his black hair obscuring his bright yellow eyes almost youthfully, almost innocently.

Sensing his point had not made it across, Remus added, "She takes your affections in and tries to give it back, but I guess it's too much for her. She wants something simple that she knows won't hurt her or neglect her, like Ron had…"

"She wants someone," Micah said, his voice growing solemn and dramatic.

Remus stiffened. He wanted to apologize and do whatever he could to make everyone happy. This was his downfall and his destruction.

"Just promise me that you won't hurt her or neglect her." Hallam turned to fully look upon the man who would always be his competition, the man who had caught his midnight exit from the bed of the Head Girl. "Promise me that you'll watch out for her. You and I both know that I'll never get her in the end; there are too many things that… would separate us, you being one of those things. Just promise me that she'll be happy in the end."

And down Remus would fall. His only destruction.

"I… I promise."

Micah nodded in the silence and disappeared within the shadows. As if nothing happened, as if Remus hadn't somehow sealed his fate to be eternally bound to Hermione.

Hermione.

Remus sat on her bed and began to lovingly finger her hair. He was careful not to disturb her or the sheet that lightly draped her body. Not even slightly. He stiffened as she rolled her hand innocently onto his thigh and sighed. He was still only a man, he reasoned tightly.

He took several deep breaths then stood up. He gazed softly down upon her, then turned, leaving her to wake up bare and alone.

* * *

P.S. -- 'For I forget, I was wondering if anyone out there is a very good motivator. I need one to help me get off my lazy gluteus maximus (if I did indeed spell it right...)

You going to review for old time's sake or what?

:) It's greatly appreciated!


	29. Chapter 29: Old Wounds

Hello! I am horrible and insufferable, aren't I? Well, I'm going to try so terribly hard to bring you these updates quicker. More quicker than before because I know you all must be dying. Really, it's killing me to forget to update; I know what it's like to wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait for one lousy update and it makes me feel very unimportant. But I want all of my readers to feel important because without them I'd never get through this! (Kat also is a big help I'd never get through without -- thanks to her for the chapter title!)

**Reviews I did not get to reply to:**

**siriusly lupine - **as always, thank you! I hate it when I forget to review someone after I read their stuff too, but really it's no problem:) And I'm sure many out there can agree with you wanting to hurt Hermione from her OOC-ness. **DeltaGamma Liv **- thank you for the honesty. I'm really sorry about Hermione always losing her temper. It's kind of hard to fix that since I've already finished writing the story long ago. Unfortunately the RLHG won't progress as fast until the last chapters. :( **Tess123 **- thank you! I'll continue, of course; if only to bring you the RLHG, then fine:) **Echolynn **- for the review, I thank you! I'm sorry the story's crazy, but it keeps you guessing, no? (P.S. - I like your penname a lot!) :)

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**Dedication** - to my borrowed laptop for all of the good times and plotting. Never could have done all of this without you correcting me on my horrible grammer! 

**Disclaimer **- Thank you J.K.Rowling for your wonderful Harry Potter world I like to let my imagination infest in! (I'd never make you apologize for stating it was obvious Ron and Hermione were going to get together. I continuously deny you're right, but hey, that's life!)

* * *

_**All That is Wrong**_

**Chapter 29 -- Old Wounds**

Hermione was walking next to Judy on her way outside for once. Judy was chatting animatedly with her while Remus trailed behind, acting rather distant instead of teasing the two endlessly about the conversation they were having. This one was on the '_attractiveness_' of the mercenary men that walked by them.

Hermione laughed at the things Judy said but wouldn't allow herself to take part in the conversation itself. She found it degrading to her pride and wouldn't change her stripes now just to talk about men.

It was the last day for all Aurors at Hogwarts, so Judy had suggested they enjoy each other's company while it would last. Since the mercenary men and women were to take over, the Aurors had to leave if they wanted to still have their respectful titles in tact.

"I'll go get us some food, how's that sound?" Judy suggested cheerfully, stopping. Hermione paused in mid-step, turning to her company to answer. Unfortunately, inattentive Remus never noticed the women had stopped and crashed ungracefully into Hermione.

He grabbed her to stop her fall and Judy smiled warmly. "You two lovebirds can wait for me outside, all right?"

Remus blushed and immediately let Hermione go. The latter blushed as well and nodded in confirmation. Judy left for the kitchens, leaving the two standing awkwardly amongst the class-bound students.

Remus stepped back from Hermione and looked away. Knowing that somehow he would have to make her happy, he turned his head back at her as she dusted herself off, her face still flushing.

"Let's find a good spot before they're all gone," he said, interrupting the silence between them. He grabbed her hand to gain her undivided attention. She looked up at him, beaming with joy, but he was no longer looking at her; he was quickly headed toward the heavy oak doors, her hand and body in tow.

This sudden change in Remus' attitude had Hermione smiling in hope despite his attitude beforehand. She couldn't help but ignore the Aurors' chat ups from the various different people they met in passing. And she couldn't help but also ignore the mercenaries and their duties of glaring at everyone.

No more did she care when people whispered whenever she and Remus were in the same room together. Now when the gossiping groups of girls began to talk excitedly about their clasped hands, Hermione felt herself smile and her heart beat joyously.

_Remus was holding her hand_…

It didn't matter what others thought anymore.

They came to a clear patch of grass near the lake in the middle of the burning sun. Hermione beamed at the sparkling lake and the giant squid as it lazy waved a tentacle above the water's surface. Breaking contact with Remus' large, clammy hand, she parked her rear onto the grass, admiring the view and the fact that others were finally breaking out of the boundaries of the castle walls and enjoying the sunshine while it would last.

Remus joined her, breathing in a sigh of relief. He lay back onto the grass like a wolf and sighed once more in approval of the sun's warmth.

"Want me to rub your stomach?" she teased. He turned towards her with a smile. "You look like a dog when you do that. I just thought you'd like a belly rub."

"Are you calling me a dog now?" he mocked playfully. She couldn't help but laugh and try to rephrase her words.

"Of course not, I'm just saying–"

"–That I act like a dog?"

She stuck her tongue out in fun and went to continue playing the games with him she missed when she noticed someone on the other side of the lake. The desolate figure walked alone, hands shoved into pockets as light brown hair shone in the sun. She suddenly recalled a series of questions she wanted to ask.

"Remus, what do you have against Captain Couperin?"

At this question, Remus gave her a bemused looked before looking at the Captain himself across the lake. Remus sat up and pondered his thoughts. He seemed to be trying to collect them into suitable words.

As she waited, she looked up at the random white clouds in a clear blue sky. When he did decide to respond, she turned her attention to him and to see his facial expressions quite clear.

"I personally shouldn't have anything against the Captain," he began, staring at the man before the latter disappeared into the trees. "But I do. See, his father was famous for his battleground tactics, he was a pureblood wizard with the ideas many believed in."

"Oh, yes! I've heard of him!" she replied, not believing how she could have missed it when his last name was mentioned.

"Then you've heard of the slaughter of the little village up north."

At this, Hermione began to rack her brain, but no sort of information turned up. She shook her head slowly, her look requesting his continuance.

"You may not know about it because of many things," Remus noted, his blue eyes glazing over her thoughtful and bemused expression. "But it's not something you _should _understand, Hermione. But because of the way the Captain was brought up, he's been known to hold a grudge that he's never going to lose. I must admit he's a good man for not believing in some of the things his father's tried to teach him. I guess you can say it's just the thought that counts."

He was silent as he shook his mane of graying hair to bask his aging face in the glorifying sun.

"Why haven't I seen any of the Captain's men and women carry wands?" she asked, lowering her upper body onto her elbow's strength.

He lightly chuckled, running a hand through his hair and turning to look at her with his enchanting blue eyes. She felt her breath hitch as he warmly smiled down upon her and replied to her question.

"They're all Muggles or Squibs. Only the Captain and a few others know how to perform magic or even can," he explained. She let her torso recline fully onto grass, immersed in his voice. It felt as if her head and heart were growing too large for her. "The Muggles have known about magic from their own experiences. They usually ban with people like Captain Couperin because they're trained and because they have their own little grudge against the Muggle government and/or the Ministry of Magic.

"But let's not dwell upon that, shall we? Food's here along with company."

Hermione sat up to see Judy, Ginny and Harry holding onto each other and laughing pleasantly. Ron was along, too, laughing with the other two Gryffindors. In the Auror's arms were bundles and baskets of food from the kitchens.

"Hurry, I'm starving!" Remus called as he waved his wand to conjure a small, yellow blanket for them to sit upon together.

While Judy dumped the food onto the blanket, Remus grabbed Hermione's arm and began to softly lead her to the group. She knew that without Remus guiding her, she'd never be able to conjure up the nerve to sit near them.

For a moment, Hermione and Ron were in their own little staring contest, and she tried not to bring up painful memories that would make her cry. But Ron broke through the awkwardness when he smiled at her and held out his large, freckled hand.

"Friends?" was all he could manage to say at the moment.

It was her turn to smile as she nodded, grabbed his hand, and shook it with gusto.

"Forever and always," she said. He pulled her into a friendly hug.

When they let go, Harry proudly slapped Ron onto his back, and Hermione couldn't help but beam at the two as they began to wrestle childishly. In her beautiful, second-hand green sundress, Ginny walked over to Hermione and laughed with her over the boys' normal behavior.

"You two going to be all right?" the redhead asked Hermione quietly, seeming a bit nervous herself. "Harry suggested he come when we ran into Judy before. I didn't think it was a good idea, but Harry–"

"It was a good idea," Hermione cut in, her tone relieving Ginny. "I've gotten over him, so don't worry about it."

"Well, that's good," replied Ginny; her glossed pink lips formed a nice and pleasant smile.

"Hurry you four before Remus eats all the food!" Judy cried out playfully. Remus glared before digging his hand into the plate of chicken.

All Hermione could do was laugh as the two younger men protested the loss of their meal and raced towards the food. Ginny soon followed, situating herself in her boyfriend's lap and trying to take a piece of his food from him.

Hermione stood standing, trying to imbed the vision in her mind and label it for future reference. Only when Remus had to grab her hand and guide her to the empty spot beside him did Hermione really understand that being near him and her friends was where she wanted to be.

* * *

When the sun started to slowly disappear, the Aurors left the castle, waving handkerchiefs and their wands in goodbye. They marched out, leaving a glorifying sight for the students to watch as slowly, one-by-one they Apparated just outside the gates. 

When they all were gone, the students trudged back to their dormitories. All except for Hermione, who as usual made her way to the library, bent on gathering the information that Remus did not fully give to her.

The werewolf was beside her as she interested him in a conversation about dentists. It wasn't hard to distract him from formulating what she might be up to. She remembered his tone when he had spoken about Captain Couperin's past and knew he wouldn't be happy if he learned that he hadn't quelled her curiosity. She needed to understand why the two were at each other's throats.

Giving him the excuse of homework (which she had finished beforehand), she left him to sit at the table with her stuff while she perused the shelves. The hard part was where she needed to look. She knew she must have heard the last name Couperin in one of Professor Binn's lectures. But whenever she tried to remember his name, the only clue that popped up in her mind was that insufferable woman, _Umbridge_.

She physically shivered, wondering how that woman's name would be of any assistance to her. Why did her mind have to play tricks on her? Hermione went to the back of the library where she could find the large and dusty tomes of Ministry-related things. Since Umbridge was a Ministry official, Hermione reasoned that she should start there if she wanted any information on Captain Couperin.

Minutes later, Hermione was already starting to doze off while searching the back index for the section labeled '_U_'. She stirred awake when a thin book teetered off of a dusty shelf. Knowing Madame Pince's scowl if she left a book for abandonment, Hermione went to put it back onto the shelf. Then she noticed its title.

'Classic Revolts Led By Magical Beasts'

Just then Hermione felt something in her brain click. Immediately, she raced her eyes to the book's index. Finding 'Umbridge' quickly, she turned to the page labeled: '_Antagonists of Magical Beasts_'. Fascinated, Hermione read the text below.

'_So far you've read about the unsuccessful revolts for the freedom of the imprisoned Magical Beasts. But in this section you will learn about those who have been tormenting and abusing the rights of said beasts._'

Hermione skipped the additional text on magical wizards and witches she'd already knew. But she was thrilled at this finding. Though it wasn't of Umbridge herself, it was what Hermione guessed she was trying to search for.

'_General J.Y. Couperin was the commander of the now banished League Unit and is a retired general in the fight to try to perish You-Know-Who._

_Ten years before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named arose to commit terror, General Couperin proposed a plan to destroy all Magical Beasts threatening the Wizarding Community. The plan was called the League Unit (LU for short) for reasons unknown. _

_Backed by Ministry support, General Couperin captured 4,784 Magical Beasts all around England. But when funding grew short as everyone was convinced they had done enough, it was said that the General 'snapped' and went insane with rage. The _Daily Prophet _took a statement from the General afterwards; he had said that what he did was "for the good of the Wizarding Community."_

_General Couperin ordered the slaughter of any Magical Beast they came upon, whether innocent or not. The area hurt most was the village of Hangerton, a refuge for werewolves devastated by their disease._

_A record number of 75 werewolves were massacred; 12 were injured._

_Upon hearing the news, the Ministry fired General Couperin and had him stripped of his medals. His men were sent to Azkaban._

_Years later, the General married and had one son. When the Ministry was getting desperate during the first fight of You-Know-Who, he was sent for to train Aurors. Some of his battle plans that never were used due to the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were some of the reasons he is known._'

When Hermione could no longer read, she dropped the book to the ground and dared not to pick it up. How could someone do that?

Feeling sick, she cupped her hands to her mouth and feared she might just throw up right then and there all over the shelves. Instead, though, she picked her wand up and levitated the cursed book back into its dusty place where it belonged. Quickly, she banished the other Ministry tome she had taken out back to its place on another shelf.

When she passed mercenaries patrolling the library, she couldn't help but wonder why someone would do that. Why would someone be so enraged to go on a killing spree? But was Captain Couperin, his son, like that?

Coming about a shelf corner, she saw Remus and wanted nothing more than to run into the comfort of his arms. She'd have to come up with a logical excuse as to why she was upset; the truth would only anger him. But she caught herself before giving into temptation and instead quickly hid behind a towering nearby bookshelf. From behind the shelves' protection, she watched him lazily flip page after page of an outdated magic periodical.

Though she had no idea why she was spying on him instead of seeking his warmth and comfort, she did know that watching him was relaxing. It seemed to calm her after reading that book that held most of the answers she wanted.

She watched him look disinterestedly at the moving pictures, skimming over their articles. After a few soothing minutes she composed herself, her mind now entertaining what it would have been like to have kissed Remus back when she had the chance. Even from far away, she still thought him quite kissable.

As she unconsciously blushed, she couldn't help but imagine him close his eyes and press his thin lips to her wanting mouth with a soft passion that would force her to hold him for balance.

When Remus looked up to see Hermione emerge from the aisle, her steps careful and uncertain, he saw that she was blushing a light pink and smiling to herself about a thought unbeknownst to him.

And he wondered: just what she was thinking about?

* * *

Scary, scary, no? I wanted to explain Captain Couperin's past. His dad hated 'Magical Creatures' and went on a killing rampage; however, the Captain doesn't believe in all of his father's ideas. He hides it because Remus and the Captain don't like each other too much. Get it:) If not, you know how to ask me a question! (I really don't mind.)

Hope the little RLHG made you guys a bit happy! (Sorry to the Micah fans!)


	30. Chapter 30: Worse Than Lies

Here's chapter 30! I hope all Remus and Micah fans enjoy this...it's quite revealing. :)

Thanks to **Kat** for the chapter title!

* * *

**Dedication - **to my lovely pieces of paper that help me to remember all I put down. 

**Disclaimer - **I do not own Harry Potter and Co., my good sir.

* * *

_**All That is Wrong**_

**Chapter 30 -- Worse Than Lies**

The weekend had come to a rather sudden halt, throwing Hermione unexpectedly into Monday night.

Hunched over at the vanity, she gently brushed unruly brown hair, cursing the knots that tugged at her head. She sat annoyed, peering into the mirror that reflected the bathroom entrance behind her. It was then she noticed Remus' thoughtful face.

Normally she wouldn't try to pull him from his thoughts when his face was poised so thoughtful and serious. Still, it did nothing to stop her curiosity when she saw her old hairbrush in his hands.

What could have come over him that he would gaze intently at the cracked handle, the carefully painted miniature flowers, the faded underside? It was the brush she had brought to Hogwarts her first year; contrary to popular belief, she _did_ have one at the time. But why would he stare so at the brush as though it was something precious enough to embed its image into his mind?

Silently, carefully, she placed the brush in her hand down onto the dresser, rose and approached him quietly. She was cleverly careful to avoid the creaks she had memorized from past steps.

He must have known she had slipped behind him. What sort of protector would he be if he could not detect even her? For added amusement, she began to mess with his hair. Plucking here; plucking there.

"I think you're a bit overdue for a haircut." She giggled lightly, her fingers finding their way through his gray-streaked tresses.

"Thank you for the observation, but you're hardly doing anything to help the situation," he pointed out, clearly amused.

"Is your hair always like this?" She gazed critically at the fine, limp strands falling through her grasp.

"I'm afraid it comes with the Lupin genes."

"What other Lupin genes have been bestowed so graciously upon you?" Her voice was playful.

"That's strictly forbidden information, young lady," he teased. She paused in her ministrations to consider the possibilities. He took the opportunity her break made. "If you don't mind me saying, I do need to use the loo, so…"

Abandoning the brush upon his seat, he retreated into the bathroom. Hermione sat onto her bed, pondering Remus and his well-hidden feelings. Prediction was not her calling – didn't third year prove that? – but reason wasn't going to win out in this situation. She couldn't help to wonder if perhaps the man had figured out more than she cared to reveal.

Was he beginning to learn that she had feelings for him other than friendship? She felt herself flush and put her cold hands to her cheeks to suffocate their heat.

What if he was beginning to develop feelings for her as well? She sighed, wanting only to think about him and the possibilities. But she knew she shouldn't. It was simple enough to dream, but in reality it was too great an obstacle to defeat: she knew Remus, and being who he was, he was never going to _allow himself_ to find romantic feelings for her.

But why did this seem to be so problematic? Why, _why_ did he have to be so…_Remus_?

She supposed that if she stepped into his shoes, she'd understand the odd feeling of trying to peacefully accept loving someone half her age. But while a voice in her head told her that this situation was different from others and that she and Remus were meant to be together, another voice, more bossy, scolded her for being so naïve. Why would Remus lower himself to such a level that people would accuse him of being a pedophile? Even though she was of age, they would still see her as a child. And why should she, a silly little school-girl even at eighteen, get all stupid in her fantasies over a grown man she knew wouldn't dare to see her as more than a friend? She was just a child to him. It was that simple.

The negativities seemed to go on and on. They were generously provided by her harsh conscience, dampening Hermione's mood. Her hands slipped from her cheeks and entwined with each other in her lap. They felt dry and cold against each other. Dry…

She desired to feel the liquid heat of sweat with him. To feel him, warm and solid, all over her. To know he was only driven to madness with her.

But as she tried to gain control of the arguments inside her head, she failed to notice the cloaked figure appearing from within the shadows.

"Hermione," Micah greeted pleasantly.

With his large, yellow eyes intently gazing at her, Hermione could no longer deny her lover. Or dare she call him her husband and tormentor?

All she felt was resentment. Why wasn't he Remus? Why didn't Remus gaze openly at her like that? Why couldn't Remus be the one she felt could invade her in all ways possible?

To ward off his undue notice, Hermione returned Micah's greeting with artificial warmth. What did he want from her now? He had had her body, and could now call her _wife_; what more did he wish to obtain?

She glanced at the bathroom door behind which her secret infatuation resided. Silently she prayed that whatever it was Micah wanted would be short and quick. She did not want Remus to find her being friendly to _their_ foe, least of all in an embarrassing position.

"Let's go outside," he offered cheerfully. His body moved quickly from the dark shadows to a position next to her on the bed. Waiting for her response, he fingered her hair in gentle caresses. Inwardly she cringed; she couldn't stand his touch now. The stroking of her hair… that activity was spared for Remus, and Remus only. But she wouldn't flinch or shy away. She couldn't give him the idea that she wasn't fond of him anymore.

She did, however, gaze out the windows at the cascading drops, listening to the rain drizzle and the wind howl. Its melancholy beauty made her fearful of what lay beyond the protecting glass.

"It's raining," she whispered. Fear plagued her; Remus might hear her speaking and decide either it was to nothing in particular or to an unexpected guest. There was no need to have him assume that she was going mental. And she definitely didn't want him guessing the latter.

"So? It won't hurt us," he added as if it was nothing. His fingers glided down the back of her neck to her blunt spine. Her stomach churned unpleasantly at his touch; she sickened more so at his making her want him. "Come on, let's go."

Gently he grabbed her wrist, releasing the knot she had wound her hands into, and climbed off the bed. His hold forced her to follow his uncontrollable tracks. When he glanced behind, she smiled, but she knew it was fake, looked fake, and wondered why he didn't realize it as well. Was he really so gullible? Did he just not understand that he was making himself look like a bigger fool?

They were a only few feet from his shadows when Hermione felt the heat of an intense gaze. She glanced back; it was Remus. His exit from the bathroom had been silent. Even now, he made no sound.

Everything froze; it felt as though someone had stopped the clocks for an added effect, as well. Hermione could sense the tension between the two rise. When Remus opened his mouth, Micah gripped her wrist even more tightly. She flinched.

But nothing came out of Remus' mouth and no further pain came from Micah's hand. There was only silence.

"Where are you going to take her?" Remus asked softly in fatherly manner. His blue eyes searched his foe's face for an answer, and bright yellow eyes shone back at him, telling him everything.

"Outside," Micah answered in verbal reinforcement.

Hermione wondered when the two reached pleasant speaking terms. When had they signed a contract for her benefit?

"You will give that to me, won't you?"

"Of…course," said Remus. He bowed his head and gazed out the pitch-black window filled with shadows of the droplets of rain. He acted as if they didn't exist; he merely grabbed his pajamas and continued to stare at the window. Micah tugged on her arm, but she refused to move. Instead, she watched Remus Lupin hold his clothes limply on one arm. She watched him accidentally drop his clothes. She knew she could have watched him forever… but Micah stopped her activities with a thrust into the shadows.

She replayed the image in her cruel mind and wondered why she found Remus holding clothes – a pose so simplistic – to be so heartwarming. Was it because it reminded her of what she had envisioned if she ever brought Remus home to her parents and made him do his own laundry to prove his worth? She could only smile warmly in the image.

Micah brought her out into the dreaded rain, and at first the droplets were unwelcome to her. They froze her to the very bone and she shivered drastically. It seemed all she wanted to do was to run into Remus' comforting embrace and fall asleep, knowing he was simplistic enough to do laundry.

Turning to the man she'd grown to hate, she watched Micah push his hood from his head to reveal his pale face. It was the same one she would always remember above her as he drilled himself into her body. Unbeknownst to him her traitorous thoughts, he gave her a large smile. Her cheeks reddened in guilt.

She watched him as he welcomed the rain with large and open arms, and his yellow eyes shone back to her all of his intimate fantasies. She couldn't help but smile back and let her huddled form go. The rain dropped heavily onto her face. It seemed to scrub away the intangible grime she felt stick to her after her marriage. She twirled joyously around in the falling rain as if she was young again and still had her purity to hold onto.

Soon, Micah had her petite hands in his and was twirling her around in endless circles. Together they laughed openly and welcomed more of the rain as it poured down from the deep black sky.

He kissed her, and she didn't flinch or back down from the mere memory of Remus. She accepted their small touch as a gift of friendship, just as she saw and felt it was in her heart. It was nothing more, as he would have liked to believe it to be, and she wished to accept nothing less from him.

She embraced him in thanks for everything because she did know they were still in a brutal war, though it hardly felt like it. At the thought of war and how it might have been the last opportunity, she hugged Micah tighter.

They continued to dance and laugh merrily in the falling rain, and she wish she could share this feeling of freedom with everyone and pass it around to those starving for it. It was a pleasant thing to feel, especially after being cooped up in a castle for month with nothing but a werewolf's kindness and some books to keep her sane.

Her heart soared as she blinked the droplets of rain away from her eyes. Her petite feet were sore from their bare dancing, but she repelled the notice away from her mind. She wiped her soaked and unruly hair from her cold face. Basking in the opportunity, he kissed her again. Lightly. She felt giggles escape her as he rubbed his pointy nose against hers.

* * *

They traveled from deep shadows to her quiet and calm bedroom. Dripping and soaking wet, she held onto Micah for support. 

Remus waited patiently for them, his arms opening a clean and dry towel. Feeling both brave and silly, she ran into it, crashing into Remus. She felt him happily hug the towel around her, and she couldn't help but giggle into his welcoming and comforting arms.

Her now ruined nightdress dripped water onto the floor, allowing her feet to smear dirt and grass into the aged wood-grain. Her eyes drooped sadly as she watched Micah longingly wave his wand to clean the mess. The reminder of such giddiness evaporated, but it did nothing to damper her mood.

Remus gently dried her off with the towel and with magic, then carefully tucked her into her soft bed. He softly smiled at her from above, and she suddenly wished he could stay like that forever. It was as if he was her own sun, shining down upon her. Warming her. Fulfilling the gap she was given.

It was an overwhelming feeling and before she banish it from her mind, she pecked his whiskery cheek with loving lips.

* * *

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin, oh Merlin, how could I have _forgotten?_" Hermione whined loudly as she vigorously scoured her room. Her panicked state refused to be calmed as she frantically threw around large textbooks and miscellaneous items. 

Remus was standing close by her almost as if mocking her.

"How can you just stand around, Remus Lupin?" angrily she shrieked. "I have bloody N.E.W.T.s and you're not caring! What am I going to _do?_"

"Hermione, calm down," Remus cooed, grabbing her shoulders. Knowing it calmed her, he fingered at her unruly hair. Sincerely, he added, "There's not much you can do but calm down and try to study."

"Oh, Remus, how could I have _forgotten?_" she cried again. "I'm going to fail them, and I didn't even get a chance to study!"

"You have plenty of time to study. You're one of the most brilliant witches I've met. You'll be able to pass them without the slightest of problems. I'm confident in you, and if you're still unsure, I'll help you study; how does that sound?"

* * *

Hermione was nervous. 

Hands shaking, she couldn't hold onto her wand properly. Several times it slipped from her grip and fell to the ground. Sweat formed at the top of her brow and when she wiped it away, it seemed only to return immediately. They were annoying reminders she was nervous; when Hermione was nervous, Hermione tended to not do so good on her schoolwork.

Her eyes were burning from the lack of precious sleep, ignored as she kept cramming. She kept asking herself questions hoping to calm down. But she was never was sure if she was right or not, and always returned to check book after book for the answer. This had lasted for weeks, especially all the previous night, no matter how many times Remus had insisted she was right.

It didn't help that when she had looked at herself in the mirror that morning – how did Remus jokingly put it? – she looked like she had been "hit by a runaway hippogriff and resurrected all in one night."

She could barely keep her thoughts together, and they expected her to perform magic to be tested on?

With one last glance at Remus and his comforting smile, she was called into the Great Hall to take her first N.E.W.T.

* * *

A harsh pounding on the ancient wooden door made Remus turn and rush to it. He did not wish to not wake the exhausted and finally sleeping Hermione. 

Throwing it open he found a wet and soaking Professor Eucken, the latter looked up at him through the hood of his dark cloak.

"What is it?" Remus asked politely. It was Eucken's pleading look that had Remus let Eucken enter the room quickly. The professor scanned the room nervously.

Instead of looking at Hermione's sleeping form, Edmund pounced onto the one light source in the room, a desolate and glowing candle, and extinguished the light. Through the darkness and gloom of the lonely night, Remus could still see Edmund's form as he turned to the werewolf with urgency.

"I – I can't hold it in any longer, Remus," Edmund spoke. His voice was harsh and ragged from running for Merlin knew how long. "I _have_ to tell someone."

"What is it?" Remus asked directly.

"Are you sure no one else is here besides Hermione?" asked Eucken, his whiskery and handsome face shining from the light of the ever-approaching moon. His eyes averted around the room, never landing on Hermione.

"Yes," Remus replied. He was beginning to grow annoyed at the professor's paranoia.

"You know how I told McGonagall about my mother, Myra Simmons?"

"Yes."

"I lied," Eucken confessed. "Myra Simmons was cheating on Micah Hallam with someone. _But_, she didn't meet Benjamin Eucken until after Micah Hallam left Hogwarts. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"

As Remus considered thoughtfully, Eucken laughed as if everything was a rather brilliant joke. Finally comprehending the new knowledge, Remus distinctly took a good look at the pitiful man before him.

"Oh, don't you see, Remus?" Eucken continued on, laughing merrily and deeply. "Myra contorted her story when Micah came back for her. She was happily married then and had me, so why let a monster in? She _lied_. And to cover it up, she took Benjamin Eucken's blood willingly and used an old magical spell to cover up Micah's genetics with Benjamin's so I would look like him."

This seemed to be terribly amusing to Eucken for he continued to laugh to his heart's content. And when he noticed Remus' shocked face, the professor added in gleefully, "I _am_ Micah Hallam's son!"

Remus froze. Like a drunken man, Eucken fell, grabbing onto the werewolf for support. Annoyed yet too shocked to care, Remus tried not to flinch.

"And, well, Remus," Eucken went on, his laughter abating for the time being. "Do you know what that makes me?"

When Remus shook his head no, Edmund whispered into his ear, "That makes me Lord Voldemort's grandson."

* * *

"M-My Lord!" Wormtail cried, throwing his soggy form onto the cold stone basement floor of an abandoned home. 

From afar, Snape lifted his greasy head over a bubbling pink cauldron. His black eyes shone through the mystic steam of his potion, and his spidery fingers gripped the long wooden spoon. With difficulty, he churned the contents of the cauldron, yet his concentration stayed on the small, balding man.

Nearby, Bellatrix was pleasantly reading a book to her sister, Narcissa, the latter bound in shackles, her make-up tearing down her face. Bellatrix ceased her storytelling and raised her gaze to watch the entertainment from her old and dusty Victorian chair.

Wormtail twitched only when Nagini slithered forth from under the Victorian, circling once around him. The snake trailed over to her master, curled at his feet and stared as the dripping-wet man rose to his knees.

"What information do you have for me, Wormtail?" The cruel hiss echoed throughout the basement. The cloaked figure removed its hood to reveal the pale, snake-like face of Lord Voldemort. His bright red eyes glistened in excitement as the balding man wiped the rain from his paling forehead.

"Micah Hallam is at the castle, my Lord, and he's with a girl!"

This information did not seem to please Voldemort for he glared and raised his fist, as if going to snap his fingers.

"I do not wish to learn what I already know!" he hissed angrily. Nagini returned to slithering about her master's legs. Snape's eyes widened in excitement, his arm unceasingly churning the thickening potion. Narcissa hiccupped, holding onto a used handkerchief with worn out gloves.

"My Lord, you do not clearly hear what I am saying! Micah Hallam was, weeks before, with a girl who I suppose was Potter's friend – I have found evidence to confirm that they're secret lovers! And the Aurors have left Hogwarts!" Wormtail's voice was shrieked; he threw himself upon the ground, groveling like a cowardly lion in distress.

"Pathetic," Snape drawled, his attention returning to the cauldron before him. Narcissa hiccupped once more before her sister began to stroke her hair lovingly, calming her.

Snape turned his greasy head to the dark corner of the room. "Bring me those ingredients over here, boy," he hissed. Draco, in chains like his mother, trudged over to Snape and extended a wooden board covered in potions ingredients. The blonde, though his own face was smeared with dirt, sneered at Wormtail. Peter returned a glare.

Once Snape had transferred the purple leaves from the wooden board into the cauldron, he turned to Draco with his most sincere sneer. "That's a good boy, now, Draco. I'll take you out for tea later. Perhaps Bellatrix will allow your mother join us as well."

At the mention of her name, Narcissa's head snapped toward the pair. Upon seeing her son shackled, she began to wail loudly, blowing her nose ungracefully into the dirty handkerchief. Draco turned his head away from his mother's weakness and retreated back into his shadowed corner.

"Who's guarding Hogwarts now?" Voldemort pondered aloud.

"C-Captain Couperin, sir!" Wormtail managed to squeak out, planting his beady eyes onto his master's face to catch his expression.

"Well then," Voldemort hissed pleasantly. All eyes found his face, an evil smirk growing maliciously. "If everything's set as it should be, and we have everything we need," he began. The silence was deafening. "I believe it is time we pay a little visit to Hogwarts, once and for all."

* * *

I hope that helps everyone understand Eucken's heritage situation. If anyone's confused about what's going on or has happened...I'll be glad to explain. :) 


	31. Chapter 31: Love and War

**4 more  
**

* * *

**Dedication - ** to no one in particular

**Disclaimer - **Unfortunately, I am not in ownership of Harry Potter and Co.

* * *

_**All That is Wrong**_

**Chater 31 -- Love and War**

They were both panting on the floor. She wanted to keep her eyes closed forever and relish in the feeling of odd euphoria, triggered but moments ago. Micah pushed his hair away from his face and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Not even bothering to cover her body, she sat up. Her hair cascaded down as she rose. She tried to breathe and recover the lost feeling of pleasure, instead of the pain that now invaded her body. Only slightly did she regret urging him faster; she regretted far more the loss of the dancing lights. Or maybe the pressure of him inside of her. Stretching. A broken promise about to be forgotten.

Hermione turned to look at him, lying shamelessly bare on the floor. His legs spread, his pale body contrasted with the dark carpet. It was an open invitation to turn and assault his skin, with a familiar sense of fantasy on her mind. His hand found itself back in her hair and soon his mouth was reunited with hers.

Micah had somehow found this sanctuary for them. She would always fondly remember it as her awakening into adulthood. Recently, it seemed she and the room were getting more acquainted as her free time opened considerably and Remus turned more lenient. Did her guardian honestly know Micah was escorting her here to their shagging spot, a place in which to be pleasured over and over?

It reminded her of her decision to channel her frustration of wanting to love Remus into Micah's lovemaking. Would Remus even care that sometimes she closed her eyes and pretended it was his mouth on hers, his body in hers?

She felt as though she was losing her mind with her inability to make decisions.

"I think I can manage one more time," Micah gasped, drawing her attention back to his bare body. A quick probe confirmed he was right.

"Don't you want to wait a bit?" she asked hesitantly. "My back's still sore from the floor."

"We don't have much time," replied he, forcing her lips back onto his. Their tongues passionately fought, but when her thoughts got the best of her, she pushed him away.

"What do you mean? I don't have classes in the morning anymore and I know Remus suspects I won't be in my room for the night…"

"It's not that," he said, growing irritated. He frowned, and she appealingly ran her hand through the black hair surrounding his paleness.

"Don't even give me a speech about your age and how male bodies work when they reach a certain age," she teased. "I know you're perfectly capable."

To prove her point, she reached down to feel the evidence. She smirked at his fluttering eyes and twitching frown; she continued gathering proof.

"Kiss me," Hermione begged, and he was more than happy to oblige. Without his noticing, she silently sighed a name not his.

* * *

"My stomach's twisting up in knots," Hermione said gloomily through the nighttime darkness of her room.

"You're just nervous," Remus replied, uneasy himself as he watched her move from her soft bed. Reaching the window, she gazed out at the dark Forbidden Forest and the glistening stars above. "You just finished taking your N.E.W.T.s; it's natural Hermione behavior."

"It's not that," she answered with a depressing sigh. She turned to focus on his highlighted form resting in the chair. "Something bad is going to happen, but…I don't know what it is."

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her.

He left his chair and gently walked to the open, breezy window where she reclined. He placed a scarred hand comfortingly on her shoulder; the contact made her turn to look up at him with a solemn expression.

"Everything's going to be fine." He sounded more as if he was trying to convince himself than her.

"We're in the middle of a war; how do you know that?" she asked in a murmur. It seemed her voice wished to betray her, to tell him those three simple words she never thought would exist… words meant for him.

"I don't," he stated simply.

He presented a wonderful beauty at that unexpected moment. Hermione wanted to do something drastic, like kiss him or confess she wasn't a virgin anymore. Anything to make him turn to her, to take her seriously. The idea of shaking him was tempting, too. But ultimately she was at a loss of what to do; her courage seemed to fail her, as well. The thought of doing something stupid just to impress him made her blush in the anticipated resulting humiliation.

Something had his attention and Remus peered curiously through the window. He angled his head this way and that.

"Remus?"

"Oh, dear Merlin," his fearful sigh came. Without a moment to breathe, he grabbed her hand and led her quickly out of her private rooms. As they traveled down the sickeningly spiral stairs, Remus pounded onto every wooden door they met. His sudden boldness confused her; he was taking over without question.

Out of breath, they reached the abandoned common room of her past plotting and memories of old. Before she could question him, he turned to her and commanded very sternly, "Make sure that the girls wake up and _stay here_."

She formed a protest, but he turned and dashed off to the boys' dormitories. His voice trickled down, repeating the process of calling out and pounding the aged wooden doors.

Waiting stoically, Hermione barely noticed the girls poke their sleep-mussed heads into the common room from the girls' stairs. Some ventured fully into the room, lazily inquiring as to what was going on. It was then her Head Girl role took over and she followed Remus' orders. She made sure every girl was woken up and brought into the common room. Some fell back asleep; others gave grumpy looks while sharing their blankets with two or three others.

Shortly, Remus and the Gryffindor boys appeared, their state of clarity no better than the girls. Hermione took the opportunity to question Remus, but he rudely ignored her, instead methodically closing off the windows with their large, draping curtains. She couldn't recall they'd ever been used before. At least, not in her years.

"Ron, start a fire!" he commanded to the Weasley, the latter jolting in shock. Sensing Lupin wasn't joking, Ron piled the wood. Lavender joined him and used her wand to set the fire.

Tired of being ignored, Hermione grabbed Remus' arm. He stopped abruptly and turned to her pleading form; his blue eyes burned with an intensity she had never seen before.

"Remus, what is going on?" she pleaded. She released her grip on him.

"Voldemort's at the gates," he whispered. He seemed to be searching within her eyes. He gripped her trembling shoulders tightly as though she was his life preserver in this sea of war. "I need you to stay with the students while I go inform the Headmistress. Don't doing anything drastic, and whatever you do, _don't tell them what's going on_."

"But—!" she began, but her voice failed her. She wanted to plead desperately with him and tell him how she felt while she still could…

"Hermione, _please_, we don't have time to argue about this," he replied softly, his voice dripping with an undistinguished emotion. "I need you to be brave and do as I say."

"_But_—!"

As she opened her mouth in protest, Remus cut her off with a firm kiss. Those still awake jolted into awareness at the sight, giggles and murmurs of gossip spreading throughout. For Hermione, it simply banished the huge argument she had in her head.

"I'll be back," was all he said. He dashed out of the common room… out of her sight, out of her protection.

Debating what was right and what was wrong at this point, her fingers involuntarily caressed her face, stopping on the spot he kissed her only moments ago.

* * *

"I can't stay cooped up in here any longer." Harry Potter's angry words fell as he sprung from his chair. With stubborn determination he stomped to the exit where his freedom and his answers lay.

Sensing danger, Hermione moved to block his way out.

"Hermione, move! I can't stay in here any longer, and something's telling me we're all in danger!"

"Sit back down, Harry!" she commanded, her anger appearing out of nowhere as she quickly and expertly pointed her wand at her best friend without a moment's hesitation. "You're not the only one worried in this room, you know!"

He looked around at the solemn expressions of the younger, frightened students. Hermione stood frozen in place, cursing her cruel thoughts consisting of what could have happened to Remus by now. The Boy-Who-Lived balefully sat back down into his still warm chair; Ginny instantly hugged him. He replied in turn with a kiss.

Seeing the two lovers comfort one another, Hermione collapsed onto a nearby chair. Out of nowhere she broke into long sobs. Her hands hid her shameful, red face as she tried not to imagine the Headmistress arriving solemnly to tell her about the horrid things that could have happened to Remus by now.

"Oh, Hermione, cheer up," a young third year spoke up, her voice high and hopeful as she rubbed the Head Girl's slouching back comfortingly.

"I can't," Hermione replied, tears leaking from her eyes. The hands on her back reminded her of Remus and of how he would have done the same exact thing. Her mind betrayed her again, showing her Remus' smiling face comforting her… then a marbled gravestone appeared.

"Whatever is the matter?"

The girls who had crowed her backed away from Hermione. It was Lavender who had spoken, having left her boyfriend's side to sit awkwardly beside Hermione. The latter looked up; the former put her hand on their leader's shoulder for moral support.

"Remus isn't going to come back and I know it," Hermione confessed in a fearful whisper. Shamefully, Hermione looked away at the words she couldn't even admit to herself. "I never told him, and I need to."

"Never told him what?" Lavender whispered sincerely. She hushed the younger girls, backing them away with a single and second-sparing glare.

Hermione went to reply truthfully, but stopped, her eyes widening in realization.

Oh, Lord, she was in love with Remus Lupin.

How could she have not known it before? How could she have not understood all that was only now starting to make sense?

She stood up suddenly, her wand clasped firmly in her fist. Dodging the eager Gryffindors, she raced quickly to the Head Girl dormitories to find her warming cloak. She heard others follow her up the steps, but realized she didn't care anymore about keeping them in the common room; her mind was otherwise occupied as she searched frantically around her room.

She was in love with Remus.

Her heart soared joyously at the revelation. She threw on her cloak and, almost as if in a trance, she approached the window where she could see Voldemort's Death Eaters trying to pass through the gates of Hogwarts.

Their blackened forms did nothing to raise her fear; the sight only motivated her more to find Remus.

She scrambled back down the stairs, ignoring everyone's repeated questions. When she reached the door leading them out, she paused, trying to formulate her next move.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?" Harry demanded angrily, leaving his chair despite Ginny's protests.

"I have to tell Remus I…"

"You what?" Harry prompted as he searched her face for an answer. Ron looked at her oddly as did Lavender.

She wondered if she should tell her best friends all that was truly happening, but something tugged at her and forced her to run out of the common room. To somewhat obey Remus' commands, she barricaded the students into Gryffindor Tower, then raced away, ignoring the Fat Lady's sleepy questions.

Hermione raced down the long corridors toward the faraway Headmistress' office where Remus said he'd be. She ignored the portraits as they called out to her, bombarding her with questions and berating her for the noise she was making. Finally she reached McGonagall's office.

Proving more difficult than it should have been, she thought of possible passwords. Dumbledore's were easier to guess; being who he was, one could count on them being a sweet. Knowing McGonagall, however, it was probably something much more complicated.

She opened her mouth to start randomly pouring out words, but something stirred in the shadows nearby.

In the darkened corridor, she felt her heart race at the unknown intruder. But her fear dissipated when Micah stepped out of the shadows; his yellow eyes were bright as beacons and his grin was larger than usual.

"Remus left already, Hermione," he said eerily in that mysterious voice she remembered so well him using when she first saw his face back on Christmas night. "But I can bring you to him, and it's safe to say that the war's beginning to end."

Before she could question his odd behavior and sly hints, he grabbed her frail wrist and pulled her to him. His kiss seemed to last forever, while worry plagued her during his rough assault on her mouth. When he stopped she was left dizzy and breathless; her mind refused to process anything as he dragged her into the shadows with him.

When her senses cleared, she appeared with Micah on the grounds of Hogwarts.

In front of her were dozens of Order members and mercenaries all assembled together.

As she watched the ranks form into their respective groups, Hermione swore silently that even as Micah held her that she could feel fear stench the air.

All that ran through her mind was: w_here is Remus?_

* * *

"Something's going on!" Harry cried as he stormed to the boys' dormitories with Ginny hot on his heels. Ginny pleaded with him to obey Hermione, but he ignored her, racing past the darkened four-poster beds and throwing open the large draping curtains.

There, before his shining emerald eyes, were Voldemort's followers at the gates. Their cloaks hid them well within the night, but their eyes, shining gruesomely even stories below, gave away their startling position.

Harry froze at seeing the once innocent grounds of Hogwarts not only covered in Order members, but mercenary men and women, lining up to prepare for battle. His heart tugged shamefully, pitifully at him as he watched Captain Couperin and Professor Eucken line up in front of the groups of witches and wizards.

But why would these noble people be willing to sacrifice themselves for young adults like him, watching helplessly, only praying for them?

Harry reasoned that Voldemort didn't seem to have any other dark creatures and that had to be a good sign. He, Harry, couldn't help but want to get out there and fight. It wasn't a psychotic death wish or a desire to get attention; it was the large lion roaring inside of him, scratching angrily with its sharp claws to get out and do his part to end this blasted war.

"Oh, damn," Ginny said breathlessly in shock. She grabbed Harry for support, watching the scene below with him. While he allowed himself this spare moment to selfishly hold his confidant, he started to formulate a plan.

When he finally let Ginny go, he turned to her and said with conviction, "We need to bring Dumbledore's Army together again."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Until next time... 


	32. Chapter 32: The Beginning of the End

** 3 more **

* * *

**Dedication - **To the things that motivate.

**Disclaimer - **I think you should know by now

* * *

_**All That is Wrong**_

**Chapter 32 -- The Beginning of the End**

"Let's go," Micah said excitedly, leading Hermione through the desolate grounds of Hogwarts, grounds where she used to study and watch Ron and Harry goof off. A time when Voldemort and Remus didn't exist in her joyous and innocent life.

As she raced across the intimately familiar land, she felt free as a once-caged bird shedding its bars. However, her heart began to droop when she could not find the friendly face of her love within the lines. Only nameless and blank faces of the mercenary men and women were there, with a few familiar ones of other Order members.

When she and Micah reached the front lines where Professor Eucken and Captain Couperin were, she could feel the multicolored eyes on her breathless form, focusing on her and Micah's entwined hands.

"What are you doing here?" Headmistress McGonagall angrily cried, forcing everyone to stop marching with the flick of her specially carved wand. She adjusted her spectacles and glared at Hermione, who felt her pride shrink with every step she made. "You are not to be here!"

"If she wants to watch, just let her," Captain Couperin remarked, his long and elegant light brown hair tied up with a silk ribbon. She noticed with pleasure that he looked as if he was going to a fancy, foreign ball. He wore black boots shined to show reflections; his outfit held no stain of any kind, and his face was set like royalty, stubborn and proud. It made her wonder why he was doing so, but assumed it had to do with his once ruined, stomped-on pride.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Professor Eucken added, his handsome face showing worry at the sight of Micah's grip on her hand.

"We should not be held up by an infantile little girl and her stupid lover!" the Captain growled; his dark eyes were set onto hers, making her feel small and insignificant. But she held her chin up, silently remarking that she did not love Micah, no matter what they had been in the past. "We're in the middle of a _battle _here!"

_I love Remus_ was all she could say to herself; the Captain took his eyes off her and glared unnecessarily at McGonagall.

While the Headmistress seemed a bit harassed at the attention the young witch was being given, she sighed and grabbed Hermione's upper arm. Micah let her go, allowing McGonagall to pull her to the empty spot beside her.

Hermione held onto her wand tightly, proudly marching next to her Headmistress. She never noticed when Micah disappeared into the shadows. What she did notice was that she still could not locate Remus. She turned to look behind her, hoping to catch sight of him. She didn't. Instead, she saw fear, courage, anger, and anticipation all written on the sea of faces. And she realized that being in the middle of a battle with Voldemort was not where she wanted to be. A moment's panic hit when she noticed Micah was also gone, but the grip on her shoulder suggested compassion and support. It was Eucken.

He offered her a polite and comforting smile; with all her might she tried to return it. Seemingly pleased, his eyes returned straight ahead. Hermione followed his gaze.

Though the path towards the gates of Hogwarts seemed a long way off, Hermione could swear that with every step they took forward, they were truly taking five.

* * *

"I want all of you to stay here, you hear me?" Harry Potter commanded. He looked over the common room full of scared eyes. He then turned back towards the fireplace, not waiting for Ron to say goodbye to his girlfriend. He threw the stolen Floo powder into the fireplace. "Hufflepuff common room!"

When the willing appeared in the Hufflepuff's domain full of sleepy, puzzled students, Harry stepped forward and spoke sincerely.

"I need those of Dumbledore's Army to come with me," he announced. Ginny, the only girl he would permit by his side, scanned the room to for familiar members. Students who were once in the DA stepped forward, and Ginny quickly pulled them aside and, in hushed tones, told them what was going on. Meanwhile, Harry went to the sixth and seventh years and forced a promise from them to watch over the younger students and protect them at any cost.

The members of the DA left quickly, repeating the process in the Ravenclaw and Slytherin common rooms, pulling even a few from the Salazaar line.

Once they were able to escape the spells placed on the Houses' common rooms for protection (even Hermione's hard-to-crack spell), the students of Dumbledore's Army raced through the castle of Hogwarts, eager to prove themselves. As they ran toward battle, yellow eyes watched with amusement.

* * *

The gates of Hogwarts were finally broken, and Death Eaters poured into the castle grounds like an infestation of cockroaches. Regrouping, they converged on the Order and mercenaries.

Hermione's heart raced. Those dark and forbidding masks… Who knew who was behind which one?

When the two groups, light and dark, were close enough to see each other's eyes quite clearly, both fronts stopped. Hermione felt someone appear by her side. Knowing it was impossible to Apparate, (having read _Hogwarts, a History_ a few times), she turned curiously to see who was beside her. Bright yellow eyes looked back at her.

"Micah Hallam," a hiss interrupted before Hermione could speak. Startled, she turned to find those formerly before her part, Lord Voldemort no less than five feet away from her quivering form. Micah grabbed her hand in support.

"Lord Voldemort," Micah replied mockingly. "We meet again. Long time no see, eh?"

"Yes," Voldemort hissed, his red eyes narrowing in excitement. "It's been a long time. Maybe too long, perhaps."

From somewhere near her, she heard Captain Couperin whisper something along the lines of, "Bloody devils."

"But what brings you back from the dead?" Voldemort asked pleasantly as if they were having afternoon tea.

"Revenge," was all Micah said before he took his wand out and pointed it at Voldemort threateningly.

* * *

"The doors won't budge, Harry!" Neville Longbottom called from the front of the group. "They've been sealed with a powerful spell!"

"It must have been McGonagall's," Ginny whispered, repeating Harry's thoughts. "I'm guessing she really doesn't want us to get into any trouble or get hurt."

"Damn it!" Harry hissed as he rubbed his palm onto his pain-stricken scar. "Where's Hermione when you need her?"

* * *

"And what do you plan to do?" Voldemort asked pleasantly, laughing. Micah didn't flinch as the other Death Eaters laughed along. Hermione noticed that Micah hadn't moved a muscle at all; she could tell he was deep in thought, formulating with his brilliant and cunning mind.

"This," he said, whispering something that shocked the Death Eaters. His wand flicked toward the front doors of the castle. Bright light emitted from the wood, unlocking the great doors to allow a small troop of teenagers to scramble out.

Seizing the chance born of diversion, Eucken sent red sparks into the sky and ordered the group to charge into battle. Lines broke; the fight had begun.

Hermione watched everything rush by her, spells and hexes as well as witches and wizards. Someone grabbed her in that rush and led her away from the masses. Sputtering an argument, she looked up to see Remus, his grip on her formerly free hand tight and unyielding.

She let Micah's hand go.

Remus led her deep into the Forbidden Forest, leaving the chaos – and her courageous friends – behind. Love compelled her to follow blindly this man whose protection she'd survived under.

Hermione's heart soared in the realization Remus was alive and well, never once relinquishing his grip on her hand. She smiled at the thought, all consideration for the danger around them blissfully absent.

Suddenly they stopped, Remus whipping around, verifying no one followed.

"Hermione, I thought I told you –" he began, his eyes returning to her face. But her blatant happiness interrupted him as she pulled him into a strong, loving embrace. Momentarily pausing, he broke down with a sigh and returned her hug just as eagerly. When she pulled away, she couldn't help but stare up at his lovely blue eyes, eyes focused upon her.

Her body grew giddy when his own strong form pressed against hers. Her eyes watched his thin lips, and wished only to place her wanting mouth onto his passionately, to feel nothing but her heart soaring with his. But before she could declare her love for him, he said quite calmly, "I was worried about you."

"I was worried about you as well," she replied, burying her head into his chest and wishing to never let him go. His hand cusped her burning cheek, forcing her chin up, forcing her to look into his azure eyes. Lost in them, she only noticed his nearness when his lips met hers.

Her arms wrapped quickly around him, bringing them even closer together, muffled moans deepening with the act. Her head titled slightly and he took the opportunity to deepen their kiss.

Everything seemed marvelous up against him. Her back halted into a tree and she pulled back enough to view the wolfish nature of his expression. Whimpering in delight, she ignored the rough tug of the bark as he pushed her body higher against the tree. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around him and he pinned her body with his own.

They looked at each other and laughed, but when he kissed her, the amusement died and their demand for flesh blossomed. Heated breathing and slight moaning echoed throughout the forest, bringing it to life. Her hips chose their own path, pressing deeper, urging him closer. The temptation to admit she wasn't a virgin grew strong – to admit she knew what she was doing, knew what she wanted. But the confession dissipated as his mouth assaulted hers.

He parted her cloak and reached under, breathing heavily against her. His kisses were hungry as his hands roamed of their own volition along her body. She almost lost herself completely to his world of touch and deep kisses, but a sight before her made her freeze. Remus felt her tension, paused, and turned to see the cause.

Professor Eucken emerged from the depths of the rustling foliage. His face was blank; his wand was held tightly in his fists.

"Edmund, what are you doing here?" Remus cautiously asked, something aside from embarrassment tainting his words. Slowly he allowed Hermione down, the young witch blushing furiously as she turned her back to fix her attire.

When she turned back, Remus had drawn his own wand. Instinctively she grasped his free arm, unsure if it was in fear for him or his possible actions. Immediately, Eucken's face contorted from placidness to utter fury.

"Dragging her out here for a quick shag before war, are you?" her Defense professor snapped heatedly.

"Of course not, Ed–," Remus began as though it were obvious. But Eucken cut him off, his dark eyes burning in anger. He sneered.

"Oh, _of course_. Why do it on the dirty _ground?_ Why not in the _Head Girl__rooms_ or in the bloody _broom__cupboards_ or even in the Defense _classroom?_" His voice had risen.

"What are you talking about?" Remus inquired suspiciously, raising a bushy eyebrow in question. Hermione blushed heavily, knowing it was Micah with her in both the broom cupboards and Eucken's classroom. Shame in the sense of betrayal washed over her. What would Remus think of her? As a slut of some sort? If only he knew it was his image she fantasized was doing such naughty things to her.

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about, Lupin!" Eucken barked. "Don't play stupid with me! You very well know what you've been doing behind my back, even when I went to you for help!"

"Ah, but of course," Remus replied coolly. "You point the finger at everyone else but yourself." His voice lowered, almost mocking. "And why did you follow us? If you knew what was going to happen, that is?"

Eucken went pale, noticing their increasingly intimate contact; his fists shook even more in rage.

"I never thought you had it in you, Lupin." Eucken's voice was rugged and hoarse, and he licked his dry lips as his eyes bore into Remus' stern face. "I knew Hallam figured out you liked her, but I never thought you'd let it evolve."

Despite the anger, Remus remained calm, his voice betraying neither fear nor insult. "When he went into my mind Christmas evening, I didn't expect him to figure me out," he confessed. "But at the time it was nothing more than fondness for her; she _is _the brightest witch of her age, and one of the most compassionate. It was when I had to admit my love for her in order to stop him from choking me did I reconsider everything."

Hermione felt herself twitch in fondness, and she leaned her head onto the werewolf's arm, briefly startling him.

Eucken snarled in utter rage, and grabbed Hermione with quick reflexes. She struggled desperately against him, only for him to slam her with one hand into a towering tree nearby. She choked in pain, gasping for breath against the constriction of her lungs. Eyes wide in fear, she fought for oxygen. Something blocked her trachea. She coughed chokingly.

Blood. The crimson substance trickled from her lips, dripping down her small chin upon her immobile form. Once dislodged, her breath returned freely, though ragged. Remus' panic faded, turning now into simmering anger. Lazily he pointed his wand at Eucken, the latter still shaking in fury. A Stunning Spell shot from his wand, but the professor was too quick and dodged it easily.

A harsh, violent duel began between the men, and Hermione struggled viciously to free herself from the powerfully magical binds. They never noticed, their battle continuing in force. Some nasty hexes and spells missed their target by inches; other hit with brutal accuracy. It was as if the pent up frustration and dislike for the other was beginning to unleash in the freedom of the fight.

At some point they lost their wands in the mist of the duel, and Hermione had the displeasure to watch their silhouettes resort to the barbaric Muggle style of combat: with flying fists. Tears began falling again like an annoying, dripping faucet. Would this unnecessary brutality ever end?

Breaking her attention from the two-man battle before her, an unfamiliar sense caused her to tug her eyes away from the fight and look up at the darkened sky. Eerily, the trees began to incessantly tremble in a nonexistent breeze. In the direction of the greater battle, past the dense, dark tree-line, a colorful cloud of orange and soft pink shot up. A tremendous boom unlike anything she had ever heard echoed from far away. The ground trembled.

Frightened, Hermione's head shot around, trying to fathom what had happened. Before she could make a determination, a heavy tree branch slammed into her head. Terrible throbbing immediately set in, and she began to drift pleasantly toward the unimaginable world of unconsciousness.

Through the flashes of pain behind her eyes, Hermione was vaguely aware when the binding spell holding her to the tree released, dropping her unceremoniously into brutally masculine arms. An unfamiliar scent assaulted her, ragged breathing met her ears. Unable to call for Remus, she remained mute as her body was hefted into these same arms and transported through the deep, ominous forest quickly. But every now and then there was a pause in the male's running pattern as whomever was carrying her had to stop for a moment or two to catch his forgotten breath.

Throughout the agonizingly long trek through the rugged forest terrain, she drifted in and out of consciousness, her stomach churning with each return to awareness. The only thing keeping her from hyperventilating in panic was the vision of Remus' smiling face.

Some time later she sensed a slight shift in light, her eyes too sore and red to open properly. Soft, murmuring voices were all around her, lifting her heart in happiness with the faint presence of familiar others. Hermione opened her eyes expecting to be greeted with her friends' comforting smiles. But her hope was soon taken away as her captor began to move away from the voices. Peering through swollen eyelids, Hermione realized they were near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Splayed across the grass, hundreds of bodies lay limp and dead-like. She shuttered.

The hairs on the back of her head prickled, suggesting danger, and she gathered her courage and began to rebelliously cry out for help. But no comfort came. Her carrier's cold, rough arms tightened, his stench reeked of testosterone and sweat, dominating her senses. She began to panic. Whoever was carrying her certainly wasn't Remus – and certainly wasn't friendly.

This time her screams came loudly, echoing throughout the nearly deserted grounds. She began to beat her petite and frail fists into this stranger's hard chest. Unfortunately, she was quickly reprimanded with a harsh smack to her head. She fell limp and silent once more.

Further they traveled, and despair set it. But just as her hope began to float away for good with the melancholy wind, her captor stumbled and fell into the soaked grass. Hermione was tossed from his arms, landing hard with a _thud_. Gathering her bearings, she turned to see that he had not simply fallen: someone had viciously hit him from behind. And that someone remained standing over her, a scowl evident even in the poor lighting.

Severus Snape.

"P-Professor Snape?" she gasped in shock. She had no more than uttered his name when his quick reflexes shot out a pale, scarred hand to cover her mouth.

"I am no longer your professor," he sneered, inspecting the large, throbbing lump on her head by hand. She opened her mouth against his clammy flesh, longing to ask millions of questions, but he snapped angrily. "Don't say anything, you silly little girl. You're going to aggravate your wound even more."

She immediately shut her mouth and began to look around her surroundings. Completing his appraisal, he returned his hand to an inside cloak pocket and withdrew a glass vial of bright pink potion. Her tucked away fear began to resurface as he uncorked the bottle and roughly put it to her chapped lips.

"It's not going to kill you," he said, disgust evident in his voice at her frantic expression. "It's a healing potion." He titled the vial forward slightly; the thickened liquid poured into her dry mouth. It was cooling as it slid down her throat. Almost instantly her throbbing headache dissipated.

"Edmund Eucken tried to drag you out of here," he informed her suddenly. His attention focused on the vial, returning its cork with considerable attention. Just as he returned it to his pocket, a coughing fit overtook him. When he pulled his arm away from his face, Hermione could see the blood tainting his thin lips. "I heard you scream –"

"Why did you do that?" she cut in. He flinched from her random question. Sitting up as best she could, she scanned his body in a quick glance, taking in the wounds he tried to hide. "You should see Madam Pomfrey –"

"Oh, _do_ think about it," he snapped angrily. His black eyes bore deeply into her bright brown ones. "Do you honestly believe that everyone's going to accept me after what I did? I am not, shall we say?, a _pleasant_ wizard; you above all should know that."

"But –," she tried, but his dark eyes hushed her, scolded her. It was as if they were again in the stone-cold dungeons of Hogwarts, he wishing to teach her how to shut her mouth, opposing her desolate, waving hand.

Wracking coughs broke their moment, his sleeve pulling away again to find more crimson smeared against his pale face. When she gave him a kind, worried face, he sneered, preparing his biting, sarcastic comment. But his attack was cut off by movement nearby. Someone was crawling toward the Forbidden Forest.

Snape moved swiftly, suddenly, pouncing on the fleeing figure. Brutal fighting ensued, fists making contact with sickening cracks of breaking bones. She silently cheered her ex-Potion's teacher on, fearful of the outcome of this latest threat.

Amidst the guttural growls and heavy breaths, a loud cry echoed across the grounds. Hermione fumbled for her long-forgotten wand, its hiding place deep inside her robes. Untangling it from one of her pockets, she aimed it as best as she could and cast the Stunning Spell onto one of the two fighting figures. This caused one of them to seize up and drop limply, the other to collapse in exhaustion. She only hoped it was the right one.

Struggling upward again, the un-stunned figure groped around the ground, located the exposed vial of Healing Potion, and gulped it fully in one go. She stumbled frantically to the two.

Bright yellow began to fill the sky, the forgotten sun finally rising in the distant horizon. Hermione blanched as she watched Edmund Eucken rise only meters away and begin to sprint toward his previous exit. Cursing under her breath, she scrambled on sore, battered legs after him, dodging fallen wizards and witches to cast spell after spell toward his retreating form. Mere, worthless inches separated her stunners from his body.

He was taller, faster, and in better condition, she realized with resignation, and completely out of her range. She stopped in a wash of hopelessness, falling to her knees in mental and physical exhaustion. Tears fell heavily, her breaths uneven and harsh.

But hope reappeared as she remembered the stunned Severus Snape.

Scrambling up from the ground, she raced over to the fallen form of the former Death Eater. She fell to her knees upon reaching him, and rolled over his slender body. Greasy strands of black hair were finally brushed away from his sallow skin. His eyes were closed, shutting out the darkness his eyes held, darkness of painful memories of the past. She embedded his peaceful image into her mind. It would be fleeting, a rare sight beheld.

Shaking her thoughts clear, she brought her wand up to cast a reviving spell when something stirred nearby. Turning warily, she was met with a sight very familiar to her. Confused, words formed on her lips but never took shape. Ringing immersed her ears, and pain shot through her body from the abrupt blow to the side of her head.

Visions of white blond hair blurred before fading to black.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Until next time... 


	33. Chapter 33: The Rise and Fall, Part

**2 more**

* * *

**Dedication - **To all that reminds us of those lovely times we experienced that we might've forgotten.

**Disclaimer - **Sadly, Harry Potter and Co. is owned by someone besides myself.

* * *

_**All That is Wrong**_

**Chapter 33 -- The Downfall and Rise Part 2**

_Hermione watched a desolate, lone figure, clad in all black, trudge down into a small village road. His clothes swayed with an ominous presence as he continued past the villagers staring blankly at him. The man in black halted many times to let small children race past him; some that did not bother to see him and continued running, while others stopped to stare – and proceed to run only with screams and tears. _

_He passed an old wagon filled with hay and a diseased looking cow. Feeling a tug, Hermione decided to follow him. Without being noticed in the slightest, she passed by the small cottages and family-owned stores, approaching him. He stopped in front of a small family bookstore._

_Olive green paint peeled off the two-storied building; gold lettering on the large window threatened to dissolve into unintentional spellings. As the man visually searched the inside of the store through the window, Hermione read the name stenciled on the glass: "Eucken's Bookstores: Family Owned and Operated since 1875." Curious, she entered the bookstore, the black clad man in the lead._

_While he looked around within the store once more, recognition hit Hermione instantly. It was Micah. But unlike the Micah she remembered, this younger version was constantly wiping away his black hair, long and uneven, as it repeatedly covered half of his pale, pointed features._

_A sharp cry of pain drew both Hermione and Micah's attention to the counter. A young woman, her curly brown hair tied up in a sloppy bun, was eyeing a young boy who had just tripped down the nearby stairs. The boy cried out shamelessly for his mother, and Hermione found herself heading over to the two as the boy's mother, rushed from behind the counter to look at the scratch he had received._

_Hermione turned to Micah; his wide yellow eyes followed the scene as the boy sniffed away a few tears. The mother ripped a piece of cloth off of her tattered, secondhand clothes and tied it to the boy's knee wound to stop the bleeding._

"_Now go see Aunty, Edmund; she'll heal your wound," the woman instructed gently, her face smiling as he looked up at her through oddly-placed, long black hair._

_Her British accent Hermione recognized immediately, but something was odd about it. It seemed twisted in its own way from being near people of a different background with different dialects._

"_But what if I don't want to see Aunty? She'll make me pump the water all by myself and then make me go to the backyard and pick all the healing herbs… by myself!" the little boy cried, oblivious to Micah watching them, frozen in place. It was then Hermione recognized the little boy as Edmund Eucken, the man once her professor._

"_She's just trying to get you to learn what you need to if one of us isn't here to help you," the young woman replied, her tone gentle and kind._

"_When I grow up, I'm never going to make my kids do that!" the boy stubbornly replied, his black hair obscuring his face, a face Hermione absorbed, seeking out the familiar features. She realized that they were different from the older Eucken's in several ways. This Eucken's face was much paler, as if he were one of the dead, his nose much smaller and pointier, and his hair stuck up in odd ends like a dog in need of a bath._

"_When I grow up, I'm going to have all my medical supplies bought and they're going to be near me, _in the house!_ Not outside in my backyard!" _

_He abruptly turned and stormed up the old wooden steps in defiance, his mother standing and smiling in indulgence._

_All of a sudden, she noticed Micah, and wheeled around to face him._

"_I'm sorry about that," she gently greeted; her tone was light and soft as if it had been whipped to perfection to calm even a raging hippogriff. She raced over to behind the counter and looked up at him with her bright eyes. "Is there anything I could help you with today?"_

"_I–I, yes," he replied, his tone uncertain. Hermione watched with curiosity as he walked over to the counter and looked at her with his bright yellow eyes through his unruly black hair._

"_I'm sorry, but have we met before?" she asked, puzzled as she watched him closely. His face fell from behind the obscurity of his hair, and Hermione realized that this woman might have been Myra Simmons. Micah had fallen in love with her so long ago but had had to leave her… and then here they were. What had happened so that they couldn't be together today?_

"_Yes," Micah replied solemnly, glancing back up at her, hope returning._

_Hesitant at first, her suspicions were voiced a moment later. "M-Micah? Is that _you?_" she asked. He looked away from her and nodded. Her frown turned into a wide smile. "It's been so long, but you still stay the same. You always were that shy little schoolboy getting into trouble. Where have you been?"_

"_I can't tell you that," he replied, still not looking into her still beaming face, as he swallowed hard and continued to speak. "But, Myra," at this, he looked up at her, his eyes showing his brilliant love for her, "I've come back like I said I would. We can start over."_

_At this, her face fell and her eyes shined in remembrance of something long ago and forgotten. _

"_Micah–," she started, her voice full of sorrow and regret. It seemed he was able to sense her grief and tried to speak again._

"_We can start over, Myra," he pleaded as he grabbed her petite hand and placed it onto his own. "Remember? Please, just you, me, and the baby… Myra…"_

"_Micah–," she tried again, but was cut off by him squeezing her hand harder._

"_Myra, we _can _start over. I'll move here, I'll get a job, I'll do _anything_, please…"_

"_You don't understand!" she shouted as she quickly took her hand back from Micah's strong and protective hold. Tears spilled down her soft face as he tried to understand why she was crying._

"_What is it? Myra–?"_

_This time he was cut off as she looked up at him, hair beginning to fall out of her sloppy bun. Hermione felt her own tears fall as she watched the two old lovers try to resolve their time apart._

"_I'm married," was all she said. His face fell; his own eyes watered._

"_What about the child–?" _

"_He's not yours," she said, turning away from Micah. Hermione watched, intrigued. Although Micah couldn't see it, Hermione could: Myra was lying. _

"_I don't understand," was all he said. Myra continued to cry solemnly._

"_I was cheating on you, Micah," she lied quietly, her face still turned away. "I met Benjamin Eucken, and we had an affair. The child's not yours, Micah. And when you left, we pursued to have a family together, no longer being secretive about it. I didn't think it would be a problem; I was convinced you'd never come back."_

"_Myra, I – how could you not believe me? Why did you do that?" he inquired. He pounded onto the counter separating them, frustrated. Then everything seemed to grow worse as he broke down and cried before her. He pulled at his hair, and when she went to say something, he turned away from her, tears continuing. "How could you do that to me?"_

_Before she could answer, all of the books threw themselves off of their bookshelves and onto the floor. The front windowpane cracked and glass shattered everywhere in terribly beautiful and wicked confetti._

_Myra cried out and ducked behind the counter; Micah, however, stood frozen where he was, his fists shaking in rage and his hair sticking up in even odder ways. His bright yellow eyes were wide with fury and the tears that were once on his face disappeared. His hands formed into claws right before Hermione's eyes. He stabbed his hands into the counter Myra was hiding behind, breaking it in half and collapsing it to the floor in pieces._

"_I'll – I'll see you burn in hell!" he stammered, almost as if uncertain if he meant what he said. The cowering woman backed away, crying and fumbling for her long forgotten wand._

_Just then, the small boy, his eyes wide and bright, came down from the stairs to see the bookshop in ruins. Micah froze as the boy, his eyes bright and yellow, looked up at him; almost instantly, Micah's claws formed back into fingers._

_Hermione watched in puzzlement as Micah fully turned to the boy and screamed through his tears, "And I'll also see you burn in hell, you stupid – _stupid_ little brat!"_

_People began rushing into the bookstore to see what had happened, and Hermione watched Micah storm out, pushing past the curious villagers. He disappeared into the shadows in the alleyway, tears still pouring from him._

_But the memory didn't end. Hermione watched with intrigue as the boy turned to his frantic mother and said almost eerily, "Why can that man turn his hands into claws like I can?" Myra burst into long, solemn sobs; the villagers raced to comfort her._

_The surroundings suddenly changed, and Hermione was brought into Diagon Alley. It appeared to be before the start of school term; small children raced, their mothers calling to them and chatting amongst each other. It had been a long time since she had seen the bustling liveliness that appeared here; gone were the fearful shoppers, bunched together for protection._

_Black attire blended with the crowd, navigating smoothly past them. One small girl, her hair long and brown, pushed rudely past the somber-clad wizard before her. Her mother behind her threw the man a small, apologetic smile for her daughter's lack of manners. He hardly acknowledged it._

_Instead, his bright yellow eyes fell upon a small boy, the child's jet-black hair sticking up in the oddest ends, his large, goofy glasses falling off of his small, button nose. Nearby the desolate little boy was a large man, his hair even more unruly. He held up a cage with a bright snowy owl resting inside. The gigantic man checked over a small list of school supplies, while the boy smiled brightly at the owl, stroking its feathers through the cage bars._

_Drawing her attention away from a young, innocent Harry, Hermione continued following Micah. Her progress was halted abruptly at the sound of a bossy voice reciting knowledge of Roman culture. She turned around to see a small girl, her unruly hair past her shoulders. She stood on an old crate and recited everything she remembered about Rome. Nearby were at least three older wizards listening with interest._

_Hermione couldn't help but beam at the younger version of herself, showing off her knowledge to anyone who'd listen._

_Before she could pull herself away from the fresh sight, she heard a several male voices from the rundown bookstore across the street. Standing near the door were four figures – two significantly shorter than the others._

_Elder Hermione beamed upon seeing Arthur Weasley, his hands gripping the narrow shoulders of his eager, wide-eyed son, Ronald. Next to him stood a rather amused, younger Remus Lupin. Hermione's heart soared. _

"_I've been to Rome several times, and I've never known all the stuff this girl's explaining," Lupin commented to his friend. Hermione couldn't help but feel her cheeks redden in appreciation. She couldn't help but remember Eucken commenting on how Remus admired her intelligence the most out of all of her mentors. She longed to show her affection and gratitude._

"_I must admit, she's got me beat in Roman culture," Arthur Weasley said before scolding a scowling Ron, who was desperate to run away from his father's protection._

"_Well, I've got to head off, Arthur; nice talking to you," Remus said pleasantly, shaking the redhead's hand and waving goodbye to the freedom-seeking Ron._

"_I'll tell Molly you said 'hello.'"_

_Remus walked off through the crowd, scrolls tucked under his lean arms. Hermione was desperate to stalk him affectionately. But then the fourth figure, hiding from the three, appeared, a dozen books in his hands. He stepped from the shadows just as Arthur veered Ron into the crowds, heading the opposite direction of Remus._

_The boy, around the age of fourteen or even fifteen, watched her younger self's lecture across the street. He nearly lost grip of the books he held as he stared at her. His wide, dark eyes watched her through long, black hair. His nose was overly large, his skin was dark, though not dark enough to hide his protruding, red pimples._

_Beneath the awkward phase of teenage youth, Hermione couldn't help but find him somewhat attractive. But the sudden thought halted when she saw a curly brown haired woman approach the boy with a stern face._

"_Edmund, I thought I told you to wait for me at Flourish and Blotts!" she huffed, grabbing his arm and leading him roughly through the sea of excited soon-to-be students._

_Noticing that this was Micah's memory, Hermione dragged herself through the crowds in search of him. This time she caught up to the dark figure entering an old, run-down jewelry store._

_Within the store, the solitary clerk was busy attending a young couple, so Hallam stood back, waiting his turn. It came when the couple drifted to the other side of the store, and Micah approached the counter filled with large and shimmering jewelry._

"_How can I help you, sir?" the man asked pleasantly. _

"_I'm looking for a specific ring a woman sold to you a few years ago," Micah replied, his finger softly tapping onto the glass pane protecting the jewelry._

"_I can't guarantee it's still here if I bought it that long ago," the worker replied, unsure. Perhaps he was the owner?_

_Obviously that was not a satisfactory answer for Micah, and his eyes narrowed angrily. Sensing danger, the man coughed before adding hesitantly, "But I can check for you, if you'd like. Can you give me a detailed description?"_

"_It's yellow with a black crack running through it," was all Micah explained, falling silent. The clerk made no reply, and turned his attention to sifting through parchments of paper hidden behind the counter. Long minutes passed, and finally the man located a parchment and placed it onto the table before Micah._

"_If this is it," he confessed, "we've been having a horrible time selling it." Micah scanned the aging parchment. "The woman who sold it didn't offer any information on it, so I'd researched it shortly after purchase. I believe that a private manufacturer back in the late 1960's, early 70's, made the ring. The company, after the downfall of You-Know-Who, closed due to economic ruin and hasn't produced a thing since."_

"_That's correct," Micah replied. The man looked up at his glistening eyes suspiciously._

"_How do _you_ know about its past, if this is indeed the ring your looking for?" the proprietor asked, curious._

"_It was my ring, and I'd like to have it back," he replied, trying to be as calm and as businesslike as he could manage._

"_I'm sorry, but I just can't _give_ it to you. You'd have to buy it off of me."_

"_It's _my _ring."_

"_No; it _was _your ring. It's mine now. And if you want it, you're going to have to buy it, or trade for it with something worth its value."_

"_Look –" _

"_Under magical binds, you cannot take the ring from me without buying it or trading something else worth the same value. Sir, you will be accused and tried for stealing if you do not do as I say."_

_Micah, looking a bit harassed at being the one threatened, narrowed his bright yellow eyes in fury and angrily confessed, "I don't have the money to buy it, and I certainly don't have anything equal its value."_

"_Then I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave or come back with the money to buy it."_

_Micah looked back at the browsing couple, then quickly turned back to the owner. He grinned, evilly, his eyes wide and bright._

"_Oh, but I don't have to go anywhere."_

_At this, Micah retreated to the shadows, hiding himself within the dark recesses of the store. The owner watched him with warily._

_Bright yellow eyes watched the worker as he murmured casually, "And I have no where to go."_

_Before Hermione could register what was going to happen next, she was placed neatly into another memory. It was déjà vu as she watched a replica of herself walk down the Diagon Alley path._

_But this time, she was with three recognizable people: Ron, Harry, and Ginny._

_She realized it was just before her crazy seventh year had begun. Her heart swelled unnaturally at seeing herself and Ron so close to one another._

_His random freckles were placed sloppily onto his face, standing against the paleness of his fuzzy skin. His bright blue eyes looked doggedly around the practically deserted area, as if looking longingly for someone other than herself._

_This time, she realized his expression for was it was: he was seeking any sight of his hidden love, Lavender._

_But Hermione didn't care about it anymore. He had Lavender, and they were content with each other, as placid as two lovebirds could be._

_In fact, the only thing that bothered Hermione was how content her beaming face was. Did she truly look like that? Was she truly that happy, once upon a time? Her heart panged longingly deep within as she watched her younger self talk animatedly with Ginny, the latter sneaking sideways glances at the Boy-Who-Lived._

_And her face paled considerably at seeing Harry, his emerald eyes reflecting dully in his skull. His hair lay greasy and limp, but his charming smile outshined everything negative. He actually looked much healthier and better looking than she remembered him. The Harry in her current time had endless, dark circles under his tired eyes. Her heart wrenched uncomfortably at seeing him wear away before her very eyes._

_But she had to tell herself firmly that there wasn't much she could have done. She had had problems of her own to consider._

_Returning her attention outwardly, she watched as the friends went into the new jewelry store. She remembered that fateful entrance. The bells announced their entrance with grace, ringing softly throughout the desolate store like caged songbirds._

_Quickly, Hermione followed them. Only a few steps in the door, and her stomach flipped warningly. There was the dark figure of Micah Hallam, his yellow eyes wide, hiding within the shadows. How had her younger self not seen him?_

_But a look upon her younger self explained well: she had been eyeing the jewelry intently. This time, she also noticed with alarm that Micah was watching _her_ intently. Then she gasped: she and Myra Helena Simmons looked _very much _alike. They both had gracious, charming mannerisms, both had long, curly brown hair, and they both had a glow in their eyes as if being shown something intriguing and worthwhile._

_Turning her attention back to the store, she noted Harry and Ginny were browsing the selections. She and Ron were busy looking all about. Well, Ron was busy shifting from foot to nervous foot, eyeing the expensive price tags._

_Before she could relive the event of sealing her own fate by that devastating ring, Micah looked upon her younger form with glee. He was deep in thought; his clever and sly mind was scheming a plan._

_A plan that involved her and the ring._

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Hermione woke groggily to find herself in the spotless Hospital Wing, the morning too bright and cheerful. She groaned aloud at the bright white as it burned her sensitive eyes.

'_Can we please get some color into this room or something?_' she thought, longing to ask McGonagall to have Filch re-decorate the place.

She looked to her side to share the joke with Remus, but his chair was empty.

For a few minutes, she patiently waited for him, but all she could hear was the constant small chatter, the room full of bruised and broken students. Maybe he had to go to the loo or something, she reasoned.

But as time continued to go by slowly with no Remus, panic set in. She began to tear at her bedding, anxious to depart the room. A great inner frenzy took hold, and she stumbled clumsily out of the confines of 300-count cotton, desperate to flee.

But no more than a few steps were made before Madam Pomfrey arrived, intent to re-confine Hermione to her bed. Her head throbbing painfully, the latter acquiesced. Whoever had punched her head so ruthlessly was on borrowed time. Once she learned their name…

Sudden, fearful thoughts clouded her mind. Was Remus badly hurt? Or even worse, dead? Her words were spoken urgently.

"Where's Remus?"

The hesitance that followed her query left Hermione uneasy. A solemn look flickered in the nurses' eyes, drawing Hermione's palpable fear to the surface.

"Where's Remus, Madam Pomfrey? Where is he?" Still met with silence, her voice teetered on a breakdown, nausea sweeping through her. "Tell me! Where's my Remus?"

Madam Pomfrey paused amid her sheet-adjusting and squared her face to Hermione's. Unwavering in eye contact, she sighed in resignation. Softly she responded.

"Packing. He's leaving."

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Thanks for reading! Until next time... 


	34. Chapter 34: Hypocrites and Cowards

Um, first off: hello all!

It's been awhile, as you can tell. (Bad me!) Honestly, I have a good excuse, but it can be ignored.

Well, I must thank **Bewitched-by-you182 **for the review and anyone else I might have forgotten. Thanks also goes to Kat for, as always, betaing and coming up with another chapter title.

A friend of mine, **Dear Me**, has been having a rough time concerning the, um, response of a story she had written. It's currently deleted, but of course she repeats it won't matter anyway. Currently, she's re-writing it, and I thought it would be nice to present a piece of art to her.

With this in mind, I decided I should grant my dear readers with some art. I've let so many down with my untimely updating response, so I thought it would be nice if I tried to make it up. So, if you have any suggestion for something I could (sort of) paint, I would be glad to do it!

I can be contacted through review, PM, e-mail or my livejournal. _I am open to any thoughts!_

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**Disclaimer -- **I do not own Harry Potter and Co. I'm sure they don't even own themselves.

**Dedication** -- to my porcelain mouse.

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_**All That is Wrong**_

**Hypocrites and Cowards**

Ginny had been trying for the past hour to get Hermione to join her for the Farewell Ceremony. The dedication was for all of the seventh years, as well as those students who had died, and all others who had fought bravely in the battle with Voldemort. The Dark Lord was dead by Harry's sly moves and Micah's wand. Unfortunately, with the good came the bad: numerous people died, including the innocent. Including Ron.

There were those missing, as well. Micah, Eucken…

Though she was upset over their disappearance, the hardest pill to swallow wasn't gone... yet. Remus was leaving her life for good.

It was over before it had truly begun.

She willed herself not to cry. She couldn't. She wouldn't let herself get mixed up in something her logic admitted wasn't worth it. She _knew_ that it would happen. Remus would leave, returning to his secluded, bachelor world. And she would have to leave, as well, to make her own place in the terrifyingly exciting world beyond Hogwarts.

"You look fine," Ginny said breathlessly. "Hermione, _please_…"

"I don't want to go," Hermione replied.

She knew her immature remark was harsh, but she was tired of crying and tired of waiting for something glorifying to happen to her. She was tired of crying for Remus. Aside from the occasional morning greeting, he acted as though they hadn't wasted countless months shoved into each other's company. It was if he didn't have any feelings for her whatsoever. As if their final kiss was what it was: final. Even… nonexistent.

"You'll be out of the Hospital Wing for good." Ginny was trying to throw a curve ball, to have her ignore the more important issues she mourned over. But it was as if she was trying to get her to clean her room, while outside her door, the sun shone brightly, invitingly.

Hermione flinched at the crude visual. Bitter apathy returned. "What does that matter?"

Ginny patted her back in pity, then pulled her into a warm and comforting embrace. For now, Hermione was grateful to have someone who knew that thinking too much was only going to be her downfall. And though she was tired of being in such close proximity to people, Hermione accepted that she'd just have to get over the irking, awkward feeling it brought.

Thankfully, Ginny knew the cause of Hermione's sorrow. Regret would be the worst, and Ginny was fighting to make both Remus and Hermione see that if they parted as things now stood, regret would be their constant companion all their days.

Although Ginny wasn't as book-smart as Hermione, she realized that with Voldemort gone, Remus was surely one of the many people who would begin life anew. Remus had nothing too devastating to stop him from quietly slipping away from their lives and protection.

But begging their reconciliation, and the two acting upon such wisdom, were obviously two entirely different matters. Remus' cavalier behavior insulted Hermione; she felt she wasn't worthy of his precious time and love. His slap of unrequited affections left her painfully hollow.

Wiping the tears out of Hermione's eyes and softly erasing the smeared mascara with a gentle flick of her wand, Ginny helped her friend to stand on her wobbly two feet.

"Come on; we'll be late."

Regaining her degraded pride and marred independence, Hermione walked with Ginny out of the Hospital Wing for good and down the decorated halls leading to the core of the party: the Great Hall.

Every corridor in Hogwarts had a hanging, thin bubble, which lit up the various names of the deceased students, witches and wizards who fought in the 'Last' battle. As Hermione spotted the names of acquaintances, she silently willed herself not to cry. Solemnly she continued next to Ginny.

Hermione was becoming increasingly uncomfortable in the elegant, formal blue dress she wore. Ginny had to sneak it in, knowing Madam Pomfrey would more than likely become agitatedly protective if she were to learn that Hermione was doing something physical. But she didn't feel any more comfortable now in her current surrounds than in the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey or no.

The Great Hall was brilliantly decorated in such short time with bright, vibrant lights illuminating the castle walls. Brilliantly spotless white cloth draped the molding, reminding everyone of the new hope gained from the most recent battle, despite the lives lost to achieve it. Dozens of little tables filled with flowers were randomly placed around the space left for socializing.

As Ginny led her through the crowds of animated cliques of people talking in the middle of the room, Hermione felt so out of place. She was the fifth wheel in a double date, tagging along like some loner.

Like a wolf.

The reminder stopped Hermione suddenly. _Gain control of yourself_, she thought. She was going to become like the deceased Tonks in Remus' eyes, wasn't she? Sure, he had protected her throughout the whole year, but now it seemed insignificant a detail. Just as insignificant as mingling now with the other students and adults gathered.

Her mind having faltered to inner thoughts, all too soon she was lost within the various groups of elegantly dressed strangers. Easily she gave up the quest to find Ginny, instead retreating quickly to a solemn, lonely table. It was there she considered the past few, long months, looking for familiar faces among the crowds of chattering people.

But her sorrow continued, as she was looking for only those who didn't roam among the living anymore. Ron was an example.

Why did the fates have to be so cruel, to take him away when she needed him and his company most? It had happened on Christmas when she had caught him with Lavender, and it had happened now. When they had finally managed to patch things up after such a long silence, he had been taken away from her.

But she realized then that she had her own hectic life to tend, and he had his new love to plan a future with. She had all the chances in the world to become friendly with him once again, but she had let everything backfire in her face.

Distracting her hands with petting the flowers, she let her thoughts wander as they had in the Hospital Wing. This time, however, she was so used to these thoughts she wasn't swept easily away with their emotions.

More often than not, a mental image or memory of a pleasantly shared moment with Remus revived itself. Whether it was their awkwardness around her showering, or their misunderstood pictures of their 'shagging' escapades, Hermione didn't care. No matter what the image, she still smiled in memory.

And as she fooled around with the flowers in the table's porcelain vase, she tried not to get lost in what could have happened.

If this fatal battle hadn't lost so many… if Remus hadn't taken to avoiding her as he did nowadays… if Micah hadn't gotten involved… She could have spent this party like others, getting a good, pleasant snog from one she loved. Or maybe – if she had gotten him randy enough – she could have even gotten a real shag from him. A man. A real man.

Her man.

But even as she though about such wonderful fantasies, she knew that even these mere dreams were very un-Remus-like. If she wanted anything from him, it would be actions and feelings Remus would _actually_ do or feel, not something her body demanded when she was as upset.

And then a depressing thought hit her: she no longer had Remus. And she no longer had Micah to fill in the loneliness Remus' absence left.

She tried not to think of Micah's fate. Maybe he was dead; maybe he was alive. She didn't know, had no way of knowing. He had barely spoken to her when he was haunting the castle in his infamous presence. But she knew contemplating possibilities now was wrong; she was dreadfully upset, and she was forming so many wrong conclusions about the people who were once in her life.

When wasted seconds turned into dreadfully long minutes, Hermione tried to calm and distract herself by looking through the crowds of random people. Maybe Remus would show up to at least tell her goodbye; tomorrow was the last day and she'd be leaving Hogwarts for the real world.

She'd be leaving the memories of a relationship trampled upon by unfairness.

Trying to delay the emotions, she realized just how fast everything had gone by. No longer was she was the little, naïve girl first coming to Hogwarts to show off her intelligence. She was now a young woman, trying to gain the respect and love of the man who was currently missing–in–action.

People every now and then noticed her and tried to join her in her melancholy mood, but they soon figured she didn't want to be pitied because of Ron's death, and she certainly wasn't in the mood to be cheered up. She realized just how miserable the evening was becoming when all she wanted was to be left alone.

She wasn't supposed to be moping around from a lost love; she was supposed to be in Remus' company. Maybe even in Remus' arms… maybe. But the best she could hope for was that maybe, right now, she was lucky enough to be in his thoughts.

Her stomach finally calmed when Ginny dragged her from the table to socialize. Hearing others talk about all they had lost made her feel stupid for thinking only of herself. She was just beginning to enjoy the evening when she noticed his form, all in patched formal clothes, at the opposite side of the hall.

Unsure for a moment, she excused herself to follow him. At first her pace was slow, but when she noticed him taking familiar shortcuts, her legs took on speed, faltering every few steps from those damned high-heels. She picked up her pathetic pace, desperate to catch up with her newfound love. Already dealing with his head start and her short stride, she couldn't afford any more hindrances; the heels had to go.

Calling his name repeatedly, she raced through corridor after corridor. She tried to ignore the relentless pounding in her head, the stitch in her side, the emotional pain in her lost, echoing voice. She tried to ignore the random students walking around, lost in their own worlds. She bypassed lovers snogging in dim corners, expressing their love for one another. She passed them, but she couldn't forget them, and her heart plummeted.

Jealously raged within her, knowing she and Remus couldn't be like them. They couldn't be lovers, learning, understanding everything about one another, from the clothes they'd wear tomorrow to the way their emotions could be predicted. But she would never have the chance to learn him like that, would she?

The opportunity to find out what she could learn came before she was prepared; she'd caught up with him, her breath ragged, her throbbing heart stuck in her throat. Refusing to let him escape her again, she grabbed for his forearm as he retreated out onto a hidden balcony.

He whirled around at her touch. Though exhausted, she fought for breath while steeling her grip on him, refusing to allow him to leave her again. She would damn herself to all eternity if she somehow let him go, let him walk out of her life. She'd never let herself fall into love ever again.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprise in his voice, his bushy eyebrows raised past his disheveled fringe. Formulating random words in her head, she fought for some semblance of sense.

_What do I say?_

It was then she realized she had no plan in mind.

Finding herself speechless, she played for time by dragging him out onto the secluded balcony. Inarticulate and dumbfounded for once, she postponed her declarations by closing the elegant, velvet curtains to block his exit and to stop eavesdroppers from mucking up her already messed up life.

She really didn't need second years to spread even more gossip about them in the morning.

Before he could repeat his now-hanging question, or she could think rationally about her words, she blurted out what had been hanging inside of her mind for what felt like forever.

"I love you!"

Silence hung on the resonance of those words. Remus was caught completely off guard. His stunned pose gave her the chance to finally say everything she'd been meaning to tell him. It didn't matter that she might regret it in the morning. She was so ruddy tired of holding things in, or having obstacles block her words from taking form.

"I love you, Remus, and I'm tired of running around like a blithering idiot, trying to tell you. I don't want you to leave. Please, Remus! Your leaving would only hurt me so much, and I can't stand that. Ron did that to me once; I don't want you to do the same." She looked down, her animation fallen to weary admittance. "I don't want your pity… only your love."

"Hermione," he finally spoke, his voice soft and pitying. She sensed his uneasiness, and let her grip on him go momentarily.

But to her utter horror, he chuckled jokingly as if everything was some large play where nothing was real. Nervous under his gaze and laugh, she shifted her feet, refusing to meet his eyes. A bad feeling of dread overcame her. Was he–?

"You can't be serious–" he began, but her anger cut him off harshly.

"I _am_ serious! What don't you understand?"

"You don't love me."

This stunned her, and her head jerked up, staring at him, frozen in utter despair. His expression of amusement pulled multitudes of emotion from within her.

What was left to say? If only this situation wasn't so complicated, and Remus wasn't so used to turning people down, forcing them out of his life. Things would be so easy, like writing an essay. An essay like the ones she used to finish, then use as excuses to drag Remus to the library, where she could spy on him from behind outdated articles and bookshelves.

Oh, Merlin, this wasn't a joke! These were her _feelings_!

Why couldn't he understand her? He had always understood her before, when they had merely related as friends. So why was his common sense being such a nuisance to her and their situation?

"So that's it?" she asked hesitantly, quietly, tears threatening to spill. "Months of closeness means nothing to you? That…" she took a deep, steadying breath. "That kiss we shared; that _also_ means absolutely _nothing_ to you, does it? You think this is all some big, humiliatingjoke that you can use to wipe away your feelings for me? _An excuse_?"

She wasn't sure what she expected of his reaction, but the actuality differed from predicted. His face fell, etching the harsh lines of wrinkles about his eyes, his forehead. And all she wished to do was cry and run away before he could question her, much less begin to understand why her face was red with humiliation.

What if she had been wrong all along, and he truly didn't love her the way she loved him? What if he thought this was all some one-night stand where he could kiss her senseless now, perhaps want to meet up with her again twenty years later for a snog in a public library or something… but nothing in between?

In what had become daily routine this past year, tears ran down her face. His own face continued to fall, giving him a look much older than his years. It gave her logical side even more excuses to race quickly to her room, where she could cry over the deceased wizards and witches, not over the loss of this one living werewolf.

"Hermione, please –" he tried, but she cut him off, her emotions frenzied, her protective state rushing to defend her bruised ego.

"Please _what_?" she screamed, her voice echoing around the darkened grounds. Though she was fearful of the nastiness in her own voice, she didn't care. Ignoring Remus' shocked expression, she continued heatedly. "I _love _you! What more is there to say? How can you just cast away my feelings like I'm some – some bloody _schoolgirl _who has a bloody _school crush_? I am eighteen years old; I will no longer be a student here at Hogwarts come tomorrow! So how can you treat me like some bloody ten-year-old?"

"Hermione, I'm not –"

"You hypocrite! You stupid, _stupid _hypocrite! How dare you lie to me? You're always saying how I'm the brightest witch of my age, yet I tell you I love you, and you think it's all some big joke, saying I have no idea what I'm talking about! You stupid, bloody… stupid!"

"But I'm –"

"I don't care if you're a werewolf!" she howled, no longer caring if anyone heard her. "I don't give a damn! It's not what makes you who you are – Remus Lupin, the kind and honest man who isn't in the least bit selfish. I fell in love with _him_. The wolf he becomes every full moon is only _part_ of him! But I love him all, regardless. What is it you don't understand?"

"Hermione, I'm _twenty years _your _senior _–"

"It's nineteen years, and do you honesty think I haven't considered that? That I wouldn't have talked myself out of it if I could? But I couldn't, because my feelings are real. Why must you hide behind your excuses? The Remus Lupin I know is not a coward! I did not fall in love with a coward – I fell in love with a hero amongst all, a savior who was always there to protect me when I needed him."

"But –"

"But _what?_" She was desperate now, holding onto her pride by mere threads.

Left to stare at each other, each was utterly speechless. She was trying to breathe steadily and calm herself down, and he was trying desperately to formulate a comeback, to explain his actions.

Tears cascaded down her face like a glistening, overflowing waterfall, her cheeks burned. Her chest felt so much lighter at saying such terrible things, to have them out of her body's captivity. But she was left to wonder why she hadn't yelled them into her pillow, instead. She couldn't take them back, now.

It was silent for a moment, and she dared not speak, afraid she'd say even more painful things she really didn't mean. Her head was now bustling with things to say, and her nervous form was gone, disappeared like the naïve Hermione. In her place stood the strong, independent Hermione she had missed, the self who had disappeared sometime in the recent past, a time she couldn't quite recall its exact moment.

All coherent thought left her suddenly, as he grabbed her face roughly in scarred and calloused hands, and jerked her to him, his thin, trembling lips claiming hers with force.

Reclaiming clarity, she practically trembled with happiness and excitement as he kissed her repeatedly. Frantically his lips sought hers, his jittering nerves getting the best of him, forcing him to find satisfaction quickly.

Her knees literally buckled, yet he caught her without thought, pulling her yet closer to him. And when she gazed up at him in a moment of calm as he helped her to stand, she realized he was crying, too.

"Remus –" she began, but he cut her off this time.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I – I really was being stupid," he pleaded in desperation, like a starving man finally understanding his thirst. "I didn't mean to hurt you; I just thought it was for the best that I never see you again. I didn't think you wanted me anymore, not with the war over, not…"

"It's all right now. You don't need to be sorry."

She cradled his face into her hands, watching him control his feelings, his breath, his thoughts.

"Just forgive me for calling you a stupid hypocrite," she breathed. "I kind of got carried away."

"No worries, my dear," he replied, smiling. His embrace dropped to take her hand gently, firmly. A mock sternness crept across his weathered face. "You will pay later for that remark," he said, jokingly narrowing his eyes. "But for now, let's get back to the Great Hall."

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Ta da!

I hoped all of you out there liked it...but _wait!_

**One more chapter to go!**


	35. Chapter 35: All's Well

Well, to be perfectly and totally honest, right now I'm at a loss of what to just…_simply _say.

This story took me quite a few months to write. As for planning, that didn't take as long, however, as I wrote some scenes sprang out. They alerted me to the issues I needed to confront to help specify things.

But, as I know, many of you are still terribly confused. I had decided, when I posted chapter 33, to reread the story, uploading it onto a device my father recently had bought that I, er, _borrowed without telling anyone_. So for several days, in the sun and in insect territory, I read. Of course, being the author, it all made sense to me. If anyone still has an issue with something, please ask me. (Warning: I tend to go into full detail)

Unfortunately, for this story, it's the end. This is the last chapter. It's all very final, isn't it?

Well, to shorten it up, it was so, so lovely to meet and discuss with each one of you reviewers! All of you were such a pleasure and, in your own way, you helped me carry on. I normally would try to list as many of you as I could, but that is a task I could never accomplish. However, THANK YOU! (that's for everyone!)

Most importantly, I must thank R J Lupin's Kat! She has helped me to marvelously improve my writing, although it took me a while to stop writing "Madam P_r_omfrey" instead of "Madam Pomfrey." She always deserves so much for all of her hard work! (And for the chapter titles, including this one...)

Also, I want to make it clear, _I told you I would finish posting the story!_ Ha ha! Well, my childish antics are done, and I am pleased to inform you I am currently writing a Time Turner story for our lovely Miss Hermione and Professor Lupin!

Until then, patience is a virtue! (But if not, you can check out my livejournal for any rants I post…)

I hope you'll hang on until the end; I promise not to disappoint. So, thank you, all of you, again and again!

_--Evil Cat Hater_

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**Disclaimer**--I do not own Harry Potter and Co.

**Dedication**--To the friends I made, to the friends I've lost, to the friends I still have and love.

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_**All That is Wrong**_

**All's Well**

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Though Hermione was weary and exhausted when she woke the next morning, she felt her stomach skip joyfully; an arm held her backside against another body protectively.

She couldn't help but laugh silently, careful not to disturb Remus. In his sleep, he was still protecting her even when the threat was gone.

Her heart beat frantically at having him so close to her. Oh, how she had wanted to have him like this for so long! And his body warmth was just as pleasurable as she had imagined it would be.

Warm breath fell on her ear, caressing it lovingly with the words she wanted to desperately hear. He snored every now and then, but it only drew soft chuckling from her. It was perfect, and she found she did not want this morning to end… not for breakfast, nor for the summer.

"What are you doing up so early?" a voice murmured to her, causing her to shiver and smile, hearing his voice so low and groggy with sleep. Although she had heard this tone millions of times before, hearing it so close had her forgetting all previous occurrences.

"I'm admiring your snoring," she teased lightly, turning her body to fully face him.

He chuckled lightly at her, his arm was still wrapped around her. Feigning dozing off again, he remained motionless. Curiously, she peered over his arm enfolding her with the blankets. She could see the many physical scars he still had. She ignored them, turning her large eyes to look back onto his relaxed face.

Of its own volition, her hand ran across his warm cheek. His lip twitched in amusement. Provoked, her fingers wandered along his neck, reaching his chest. The heat of his skin beneath his clothes stirred a fog within her. Gently she leaned over and let her lips suckle his exposed neck, invoking a noise from him. She sighed softly against him and felt him lay his chin atop of her head.

All was silent, except for their calm breathing. But soon she felt his large toes wiggle around to her petite ones. He began to tickle her, his dizzy laughter against her tired giggles. For a while they continued their battle. In the end, she was unsure of who had won, but it made her wonder if this was how the early mornings were supposed to be.

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The dark figure could not look back at the towering castle; it was tempting, hearing joyous laughter echo around the grounds. He was already a few days behind schedule. He couldn't keep delaying himself simply because he couldn't let her memory go. He couldn't let _her_ go.

It was all silly, really. Was he hesitating because she was still his legally-bound wife? Or was it beyond that, back when they were fogged with frustration and animal lust?

He never knew he could ever find himself having unrequited love for someone so inferior to him. But no, she was not at all inferior; maybe in power, but in spirit she was so emotionally stronger. She was driven and passionate, even when absolutely terrified by him. It was ironic and he let himself laugh quietly at the thought.

He wondered how she was now that she had her werewolf. Was what they shared just lust? Or were they close to being in love?

It was silly thinking such thoughts. What would it matter? He was sated for the moment, and had the freedom to peruse what he wanted that didn't fuel revenge. No matter – he still felt incomplete and hollow. Could he honestly be so cold as to torture himself with what-ifs? He let her go to be happy, and that was that.

It was rather early in the morning and the sun was beginning to rise, beautiful colors stretching about in enormous lengths. The horizon was stretched out arms trying to reach something with its elongated fingers. It was odd, he admitted, that he was heading towards the light instead of retreating into the darkness behind him.

But then again, it was said that women had odd effects on men. Ironic it made him feel so weak, yet so powerful at the same time.

He had to get away from all he knew and clear his thoughts and feelings. It would be a long time before he'd let himself get so attached to a place once again. And now that the Dark Lord and Eucken were both claimed dead, he had no burdens to worry about, and he wouldn't have to be quite so paranoid. He had no reason to torment himself, and he didn't have anybody to question his bachelorhood; he happily had no family to worry about keeping alive, or killing for that matter.

He knew it was hopeless, but maybe he'd return to her one day, just to try to talk to. He hadn't had the time to do so; previously it was all about cramming in the time to be with her once more. Yes, it would be nice to talk to her now that the burdens of his family were dead and gone.

His only trouble now was the werewolf, but he did not wish to bother him. The werewolf had made promises with him, and he knew that he could trust the beast with his love. It would, at least, make both of them happy. If only for a bit.

The dark man could only bow in acceptance and try to let himself go on and live his life. He no longer had the ring, and he had no attachments left to worry himself over.

Maybe he'd retire to another country or such while he had the chance.

But to do so, he'd have to let go of the castle behind him. And at the pace he was going, he knew it'd be awhile before he'd forget the new memories of the placid, educational place. It was where his memories of _her_ resided.

_Yes_, he silently thought to himself. It was all so silly, but it would take awhile.

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"Everything's in order?" Harry asked her as he levitated her heavy, overstuffed trunk into the iron racks above the seats. She looked around the small train compartment, memories of when she was much younger drifted back to her. Back then she had felt the compartment's size comparable to her parent's enormous living room.

"Yes," Hermione replied joyously, finding everything ready. She looked up at her best friend, into dull emerald eyes that only shown when Ginny was in the room.

Hermione noted that the white gaze bandages on his head were all in order, and tried to flatten his jet-black fringe, looking goofier than ever, sticking up in even odder ends. Whatever sort of cut he received, it must have been terribly horrid if Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix it and had to resort to a Muggle sort of remedy.

She covered the bandages that ran across his head with his inky hair and smiled happily at him, trying to distract his concern. Looking stupid was the last thing he needed to be worried about.

"Where's Crookshanks?" he inquired curiously, noticing the lack of a hissing wicker basket. Hermione laughed and replied quickly, "He's with Remus, of course. He wouldn't leave the castle without a little coaxing from him."

Satisfied with their organization, they exited the train momentarily to find students bustling around the station, hugging everyone and chatting happily amongst themselves. Her heart lifted at seeing all the faces now smiling, this time with the pure intention instead of pretending.

Oh, how she had missed this innocent and placid feeling…

But her smile increased even more so at spotting Remus, standing a head above the crowds, his graying hair shining against the dark heads around him. His clothes were, of course, much shabbier than the uniformed students standing near him. And in his arms was a bright ginger ball, looking content in his spot in the arms of the gentle and benevolent werewolf.

"How's Crookshanks?" she asked upon reaching him. She softly scratched her cat's head, causing him to purr even heavier and close his eyes in pleasure. "Was he being a good little boy?"

Remus causally replied with an, "Of course," and she gently pulled Crookshanks into her arms despite his hissing warnings; he did _not_ want to let his new friend go. She looked down upon his grumpy, squashed face and wondered if his year had been as eventful as hers. He was nowhere to be found throughout the entire school year…

"Ready to go?" the young carbon copy of Mrs. Weasley asked bossily as she joined their party. Remus tried to remove the bright ginger cat hairs from his cloak, sending Hermione a discreet wink. She blushed heavily and snuggled Crookshanks closer to her heart to drown out the fast beating.

"Almost ready," Remus added before pulling Hermione and Crookshanks into a sweet and soft embrace. Ginny rolled her eyes and tried to not smirk fondly. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at feeling Crookshanks tickle her neck with his soft ginger fur; it seemed he was trying to sneak back into Remus' arms.

Momentarily parting, Remus placed his lips softly onto hers. Her sigh was light, merry, never did she wish to let him go.

Alas, they did soon part, their lips longing to remain locked together. Harry and Ginny watched, eyes large and expressions puzzled. Before either could explode in a rage like Ron would have, or question them humiliatingly like Mrs. Weasley, Remus whispered silently and softly to her, "I'll owl you, and we can meet up sometime this summer, all right?"

All she could do was nod and give him the biggest smile she could conjure.

"See you later then!" Ginny announced, fearful as the other students began to board the train.

"Goodbye for now."

The three headed back onto the train with the loads of other students, all of who were whispering and pointing at her and Remus. Hermione looked back at Remus' beaming form to see him wink gently at her once more.

Before she knew it, though, the train moved gradually out of the station. And out of panic, she raced with Crookshanks in her arms down the aisles, pushing herself through the crowds of students chattering away. She sprinted into the compartment she'd be sharing with Harry and Ginny.

She placed Crookshanks into Ginny's lap unexpectedly – her familiar hissed angrily – and shoved her upper body out of the open window. Luckily, Remus was outside of her window, knowing she'd be there. She beamed down at him; he smiled joyously up at her.

Onlookers watched her wave goodbye, until the distance grew too large. Frozen in time, she watched his return wave, even when she could no longer see it.

Hermione couldn't bring herself to withdraw from the window, even with the harsh wind blowing her hair all over. Holding back wayward locks, she glanced again down the line to where she knew Remus still stood. She felt somewhat lifted.

Finally, she brought her whole self into the compartment and crashed joyously onto the cushioned bench alone. Ginny and Harry watched her with kind eyes, themselves holding hands.

Crookshanks took her return to heart and jumped onto her lap, making himself cozy. She laughed silently, her hand absentmindedly falling to his soft fur in easy strokes. Out of the window the bright landscapes and foliage whizzed by her open vision. She was lost within her thoughts, slipping from one pointless topic to another funny one that she'd never normally think about. Maybe she was beginning to lose her mind…

Harry and Ginny had fallen asleep at some point, the redhead awkwardly placed on Harry's uncomfortable position. Hermione barely noticed, her thoughts immediately returning to her love.

What would they become once she had gotten a nice little home to call her own, perhaps enroll in university? Would Remus move in with her? Or would he first let her continuously invade his personal space like she had previously? What would her parents say?

She groaned and tried not to think of such things. Thinking about defeating Voldemort had always given her a headache before his ultimate defeat. But now thinking about having to try to sugarcoat Remus for her parents was already sending her brain into overdrive. It was coming up with silly ideas and wishing only to retrieve all the sleep she lost when she was too busy holding Remus.

Silly her to think that at the beginning of her last year at Hogwarts she wanted to be named _Mrs. Ronald Weasley_.

But she now knew better. Like a first year schoolgirl, she rummaged her bag, grabbed a piece of parchment, quill and ink, and elegantly scrawled _Mrs. Hermione Lupin_ over and over… until there was no more room left.

THE END

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Again, thank those of you who had faith in me! I hope you enjoyed this story!

I can be contacted through review, PM, e-mail or my livejournal. _I am open to any thoughts!_

P.S.--Want more ATIW stuff? Check out my livejournal (the address to which you can find on my author page) for artwork, a scraped scene, and more!

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